I always wanted to be Misses Right. I wanted to sit at a little olive green secretary's desk and fold little ivory cards. I wanted to lick stamps for invitations and check each day's menu when I woke. I liked the idea of having a room that smelled like leather and books, and a phone that simply called the service quarters. The dusted crinoline in every window enticed me... pulled me in further. I once realized that I couldn't be Misses Right. No, it was just too much to ask. Sally Jane down the street had been picked, and it simply wasn't my turn. I would not get to be Misses Right, no, not this time. "Maybe next?" I grimaced into my arm, knowing full well that a next time wasn't going to happen. We've got one shot to be Misses Right - you either are or you aren't, it's black or white and that ain't gonna change unless the pope says so.
Author notes
WILL INFINITELY CHANGE. I WAS FALLING ASLEEP. INFINITELY INFINITELY CHANGE.
Comments
-
oO
thats odd, but descriptive -
-
I tend to be descriptive... and definitely odd
.
-
Adding your comment:
