Nov. 9th, 2016

prodigalflame: (mommy dearest)
It was well past time. Ellen Allerdyce been sitting in her car for twenty minutes, considering how and what to say. War gaming various approaches was simply another delay, and she'd never thought of herself as a shrinking violet. So she fixed her hair in the small rear view mirror, checked her jacket, and ensured everything was as good as it could be. A woman's wardrobe was her armour. While the clothes were perhaps a few years (more than a few) out of fashion (much like the family car, a small hatchback), they were clean and in good condition. She may have looked a bit old-fashioned perhaps, a bit too perfect, but she had been an Avon saleswoman. She'd done a lot of things for her family. And she could make this sale.

So, taking a breath, she keyed the motor off, got out of the car, locked it, and marched up the small pathway to knock at the door.

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prodigalflame: (Default)
'John'. Just 'John.'

March 2017

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