The old dining room table was immaculately set with a cream-colored silk tablecloth and a complementary candelabra with burgundy candles. Sandra had been preparing for tonight’s dinner since the afternoon prior, first clearing the dust and choosing the roses that would grace the table.
The guest was not a close friend, but an acquaintance she met through a friend. No matter how much time she spent with her– which had accumulated over a period of two years at many different events and parties– Sandra could never reach a level of friendliness and comfort with her. But she had invited her over for dinner tonight regardless.
She was done being nice. Being nice, she realized, was boring, and for the past several years, she’d been disciplined, but she came to a realization that politeness caused stress and anxiety, and if there was a solution to get rid of it all at once, it would be to cause a scene involving red wine, fire, and the easily offended.
I always wonder where your pieces are going to end. They trail off, leaving me to consider the possibilities…