My Kingdom for a Porsche

Reflection by Mary E. Latela 4.9.17

The king and queen came into view while black tie dignitaries with their partners stood in line during the after sunset hour. She wore American- her husband was attired in hand made by Lucio, Manhattan.

The girl children were dressed in pastel satin, matching slippers, and glitter embellished tiaras. The boys wore CK and leather dress boots. They walked around the head table to say goodnight, then noiselessly disappeared up the stairs to bed.

The king knew he was setting a precedent, so he had examined all the family, then the appointments in the vast hall.

Well into the meal, Ron Wilson rushed through the crowd, went to the right of the king, and leaning over, said, in a loud whisper, “They need you upstairs.” The king felt his face grow red as he tried to swallow his anger. He started to play out the scene. Heads would roll. He couldn’t risk speaking to Ron until they reached the soundproof conference booth.

They all remembered WWII,and the Blitz, and rations. And one lie after another. Within 30 minutes, the hall was empty, limos in tunnels were efficiently merging into fast lanes until the last housekeepers were dispatched.

Lights out.

 

 

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