Weekly Expressions Week #8 Joe

     

       She sits there, alone, undaunted by the people surrounding the garden party grounds. Her name was Liza Whitlock, and she was the most beautiful and fairest of all the ladies attending the Desmond's annual garden party, an event that's always anticipated with high expectations. But the Desmonds are not who this story revolves around, but it takes place on their lovely estate, anyways though, Liza. Yes. Liza. She was sitting by herself on this day, most of the women paid her no mind with the exception of the few, who, considered her their dearest friend. The men, on the other hand, would frequent her. One by one, men tried to converse with her, of which ended in her making a remark about something relating to a nicer way of saying,"Buzz off". She was the perfect picture of tact, and hilariously to some's knowledge the men might left the chat a bit wiser, most never got the idea. They were like a child who's parents had told them to do something, coming back again, for they'd already forgotten the so-to-speak "instruction". Why it would happen constantly, I have no blessed notion. It may though be she was waiting for someone else, I mean, if men kept coming up to you with romantic wooing intentions behind their voices, then wouldn't you want them not to be talking with you like that if your lover was almost near.

      So it went on, and on, passing off to them comments like,"My dear Lawrence, as you speak of accomplishments you've done here, I'm fairly impressed that your collar isn't busting at seems from all that bloated puffing going on."

    "Why Miss Whitlock, I'm no such impostor before, I'm merely stating my many achievements", Lawrence huffed."No harm in that!"

    "Well if you say so, but someone's head becomes vastly greater in size than their suit coat, it causes some concern on my part. Especially when it seems it's going to roll off the neck, and thereby that crush me!"

    With that most cordially bid her regards, storming away while'st profanely muttering under their breath things I shan't write down, for fear you'd stop reading. Everything was seeming hopeless, she was thinking, so many blithering imbeciles bothering her.

    "Good gracious!", she thought."Will they ever give up, and deary me, where is Ambrose?! He's supposed to be here by now, Lady Desmond told me he was on the invitation list, and had accepted it happily. Uhhh, at least I'll be partially entertained with this rabble of twits, trying their luck out so it appears. The nerve! If I wasn't a proper lady, I'd give one of them a bloody nose to see what the other's might do. Ha, that'd make them stop coming over, possibly.", she hoped."Oh well."

     She furthered her time by drinking a cup of tea, and delicately took half a bite out of the sandwich on her table. As the tasty sensation of the food and drink rippled through her, the hostesses cat meandered towards her, meowing softly at first. Then a tad louder the next second as if it wasn't heard, almost to say,"Hey, I'm right here, attention please"? Oh she couldn't forget this feline, she began to pet it's furry exterior, as it purred energetically. Out of the corner of the cat's eye, she noticed there was someone behind her looking down, who in the world sneaks behind a girl without any notice.....Ambrose!

    Swiveling 'round in her chair, she faced him and said,"Ambrose, you handsome chap! Never creep on a lady like that, especially if her hand's petting this ferocious beast before us!"

    "The Desmond's cat?", Ambrose questioned."My my, quite the terrifying, carnivorous creature you've happened upon Liza", he said with a wink."Never was there a more monstrous thing, listen now, it let out it's immense roar! Hooo, makes me shiver, I've never been more horrified in my entire life."

    "Oh, Ambrose.", she said as she playfully nudged him in the arm."Shall we join the others in this wonderously marvelous gathering?"

    He put his arm out for her to slip her hand through.Then said with a posh face,"Let's join the merry gathering of high-brows and fanciful folk, shall we?"

   "Let's shall!", she grinned. Off they went, entering the mix of people, but more joyous then they were before they'd come there.