It was a rainy day In The Big Apple, Mrs.Daisy arrived to Mimi’s Cafe right on time. Despite the dreary weather her eyes alone soaked up all the sorrow of the day. She of course was accompanied with a flask of probably the most expensive liquor, and also her trusty tin of cigarettes. She was wearing a short, flapper esque white dress with strings of pearls draped around her neck, she smelled like lilies and expensive alcohol. As she greeted me and ordered her drink..”The best bottle of Champagne for New Yorks best paper writer!” A glee of giggles fluttered after. I humbly accepted her compliment, then began the
questions, about whether or not she missed Mr.Gatsby since his recent death. Daisy replied saying “That Gatsby…” there was a sadness in her voice and an endearing nervousness whether she wanted anyone to know the answer to whether her feelings for him should be public. She threw back a swallow of the champagne in her glass and took out a cigarette and began to light it. She continued…”That Gatsby was quite the most darling of characters that i’ve ever had the honor of meeting, of course i wish there was more time for Gatsby, but life goes on..” I felt as though most of that she was saying to herself and not to me in particular. She took a long pull on her cigarette and i cleared my throat, given the intensity of the silence. I asked her some more lighter questions about her husband Tom, and also about her daughter, and how they were holding up. “Oh grand! They are both just so lovely! Wouldn’t you say?” I agreed and added that they were just the most lovely bunch I’ve ever seen, and how fabulous their wealth has made them. I began to ask Daisy, if she ever had feelings for Gatsby that were romantic. At this question she took a long pull of her cigarette, bottomed her drink and pulled out her chair. I immediately pulled out my chair and stood up and offered her an apology but i had already explained what questions that i was going to ask before the interview was arranged. “Mr. Paper writing man, you’re a clever and raging young man, but i’m afraid i will have to dash, i have packing to do, and can’t be bothered with such ridiculous...preposterous questions! So good day sir!” She darted off in a white blur and there i was taking in the sorrow of the day in Mimi’s Cafe. Thinking if whether or not she was a phony, or just too scared to tell the truth ever. It made me feel bad for people with wealth, they must be lacking in some other prestige, i guess readers you can understand that when things are lagging in one area they are gaining in another. So do not wish for great wealth, for even the wealthy still are frightened of feelings.
The White Blur
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