'Being social by nature, when isolated from all other living creatures, men will invariably, over a period of time, create for themselves companions, be they gods or lovers.' (Francis Kirkpatrick 1893-1935)

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Monday, March 11, 2013

End of the Line


Molly was as competent as her diploma suggested. She slid paper after paper across her sunny, blonde desk, explaining each briefly and in plain English. If Elleanor understood (and Molly always asked her if she did), Molly would point to the X where Elleanor’s signature was required.
They moved steadily through the stack, finishing a little before lunch. Elleanor had signed a total of thirty-two documents.
          “My bad,” Molly apologized. “I thought it was twenty-something.”
          Any other time, coming from any other mouth and that expression would have made Elleanor cringe. But this sweet, silly little girl, with pink and purple stars shooting out of her name, was the agency’s legal team—and a damn good one at that—she was the end of the line. Molly could have used ‘like’, every other word and it would have been music to Elleanor’s ears. Elleanor laughed. She felt her eyes welling with tears again.  
           “I’ll get these processed just as quickly as I can,” Molly told her, collecting the papers. “We’ll see if you can’t meet Nicholas at school this afternoon.”

 

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