I swear that if the recession strips away my income,source of nutrition and sense of dignity;I shall start to write chick-lit.
This isn't your run off the mill feel-good chick flick.It is probably the shortest one you will ever read and the first one to make you curse your designer accesories if you're a girl.Our heroine Shiela (incidentally 'Shiela' is Australian slang for woman) is your run off the mill chick lit heroine.Read further for her misadventures.
Shiela wants to skip along the sidewalk. She wants to step into the gurgling puddles that line the street,but she can't.She isn't sure if her present circumstances make such behavior seem appropriate.There is a slight drizzle after a thorough shower of rain;her patent leather Gucci boots, worth a quarter of her bonus, are dripping wet.The Louis Vuitton handbag,purchased after months of deliberation,is disintegrating from manhandling;the income tax department owes her a tax refund and there is a text message on her phone that says 'It's over'. The autorickshaws will not stop,there are no buses and definitely no good samaritans who will offer her a ride without taking undue advantage of her vulnerability.
The sudden change in relationship status is accepted without a sense of defeat.She will not tell her family about the juvenile split from a seemingly amiable boyfriend. Not when such news will grant them the incentive to introduce her to someone they have in mind.The cracks in a broken heart tend to heal with time, unlike the irrevocable damage done to designer goods made of patent leather. She calls her best friend.She realizes that it is a sign of propriety to wail over the loss of a presumably 'good catch', but she prefers to whine about the soaking boots. A home made remedy is suggested. The suggestion is taken with a tonne of gratitude sprinkled with a pinch of salt. The Guccis were gone for good. Was the sudden concern over the Guccis just a defense mechanism to avoid confronting the real issue? She didn't want to answer the question, she just wanted to skip!
Prudence can be a source of great discomfiture to those who want to burn the remains of a love affair gone sour. Shiela dourly wrapped her fingers around the bracelet he had given her on her birthday.She tugged gently at the beads without pulling the links apart.She treaded carefully into a cafe. She wanted to change the way she looked. At least she wanted to make it look like she was taking it well, and ghoulish eyes with smudged mascara weren't necessarily helpful.The door was opened even before she could grab the handle. Such a vision of perfection! A rare specimen of the opposite sex holding the door open for the benefit of a damsel with a diminishing morale. He tilted his head and smiled politely. She stared as he walked with his back towards the cafe,his demeanor reminiscent of Cary Grant.
She would stop him the next time. She would stop him and thank him for resurrecting chivalry. Yes! The next time! She would wear waterproof gum boots instead of designer disposables.
P.S. I now know why great writers prefer to starve!