MERRY PARTYING

just a start......

Now normally, one would tear open the mail with wild abandon. Upon finding a pinked and perfumed envelope, in the usual monthly bills, mail outs and invitations

to bargain hunt was indeed unusual. More so, because ,the age of the internet had made the art of email all that much easier.

Pink, perfumed, but who from? Harry, carefully prying it open, saw immediately that it was an invitation Hardly rocket science in that guess, but an invitation to what exactly.

He’d rather given up on such invitations, in an age when civil unions were all the rage, and his small group of familiars were hardly the marrying kind. But it was an invitation all the same.

Can’t be to rude.

His mother had always put his homosexual nature as ‘his being a bachelor and likely to remain so’. But who could it be from. Nobody he knew was in anyway

Inclined to marriage. Unless it was a clarion to one late calling in life.

And it was.

His old school friend , who had in her youth, put the sin in Cynthia than there were letters in the spelling. Here she was. Inviting him, so quaintly ,considering she was currently his employer, to another of her society weddings.

She herself had married well, but with little affection. Having decided that to marry for a better view of the hoi polloi was all it took to assume class, she had developed the manners of a matronly gorgon .Still all the same ,In doing this, her offspring were treated to grand affairs, in the hopes that their ventures into married life was somewhat more romantic, and intended than her own.

And of course here was, the handwritten note in a cursive hand.

Having driven her entire brood to the altar in some style, Cynthia Beckham-Towers: how one could ever name oneself after their own apartment block escapes me: had over the course of several large lattes and a viewof the next twenty years in suburban

anonymity, and decided to become a society wedding planner. The fact that her mouth didn’t even say sausage roll, meant her well meaning interference was costly if little else.

What was it this time ?

Sometime Cynthia’s invitations had proved rather lucrative in finding

invitations to perform. Hell in name . That sounded like the drum call for a performing dog.

Still It wasn’t polite to ignore her notes .

If handwritten, there wasn’t a penny to be made.

Cynthia, had several drawers of stationery, but only one rolling nib pen

Now Harry,we are wanting a few seat fillers and you’ll be just the ticket.

Seat fillers. Dressed for society with free hands to the best plonk and catering

the unfortunate bridal party could afford and considering who was doing the ordering. Harry had to admit that his diet was assortment of riches in comparison to

several of his pears eeking what ever they could out of the dissolving infrastructure of public service.

Harry had often filled that role among others for Cynthia’s plans.

Have to give her a ring. Text. Easier. Save the bent ear and prattle of Cynthias

Diary and planner.