Snow was different in Alna City. In the country, storms had shaken the walls of her parent’s house like dice, buried everything as far as the eye could see. Here, the worst a snow gust had done was blow a few curls of hair out of place. Alna City snow was weak, soft; flakes fell like down. Her life in Alna City---her life as Mrs. Richard Templeton---was also soft, easy.
She had become Mrs. Richard Templeton three months ago. Dr. Richard Templeton had a good income and was well-regarded by his peers and patients. He was going to be thirty-seven in spring, having his birthday only a week before she would turn twenty-two, and gray in his hair and whiskers. This was all she had known about him before their marriage. Father had trusted him, so she’d trusted him and allowed him to bundle her away in his automobile to his big city apartment with its massive rooms, soft, soft carpets, and bright electric lights. Now, as Mrs. Richard Templeton, she had a diamond ring nice enough to stare at and sigh over and more than one nice dress. The other wives, the ones who spoke to her at parties, at dances, wanted her to be jealous of the bigger diamonds in their rings, of how much more they had than her, but she wasn’t. She already had so much.
Her life her is nothing as it was before. Some evenings she goes out on her husband’s arms, required to do nothing more than smile and look beautiful in her pearls, her strawberry gold curls arranged like a goddess’s. Even at the apartment, all she must do is look pretty, not speak unless spoken to, and do anything her husband asks. But he asks nothing else of her and rarely speaks to her outside of meals, only greeting her, making small talk. Yet as hard as her life had been before, she had always been happy to come home at the end of the day. That isn’t true here.
The butler has already taken her umbrella and the red coat she wore earlier; she’s changed for dinner and now enters the dining room.
He, seated, speaks.
“Virginia.”
She glides over to him and kisses him on the cheek.
“I’ll be up late,” he says, “In the study.” As he has said every night for the past week.
“Don’t stay up too late.” As she has said every night in response.
His work in the study—that is what scares her. Some nights she hears nothing, other nights she hears screams, screams that feel as if they’re coming from right behind her, as if someone is there with her even though the bedroom is the next hall over. And the other sounds are even worse. Loud thumps. Voices rasping words she can’t understand. Neither the servants nor her husband speaks of it, but she knows what she hears. And she feels that something is very wrong.
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Mrs. Richard Templeton (1), Set #1 - Large Straight
Date: 2020-03-28 06:45 pm (UTC)She had become Mrs. Richard Templeton three months ago. Dr. Richard Templeton had a good income and was well-regarded by his peers and patients. He was going to be thirty-seven in spring, having his birthday only a week before she would turn twenty-two, and gray in his hair and whiskers. This was all she had known about him before their marriage. Father had trusted him, so she’d trusted him and allowed him to bundle her away in his automobile to his big city apartment with its massive rooms, soft, soft carpets, and bright electric lights. Now, as Mrs. Richard Templeton, she had a diamond ring nice enough to stare at and sigh over and more than one nice dress. The other wives, the ones who spoke to her at parties, at dances, wanted her to be jealous of the bigger diamonds in their rings, of how much more they had than her, but she wasn’t. She already had so much.
Her life her is nothing as it was before. Some evenings she goes out on her husband’s arms, required to do nothing more than smile and look beautiful in her pearls, her strawberry gold curls arranged like a goddess’s. Even at the apartment, all she must do is look pretty, not speak unless spoken to, and do anything her husband asks. But he asks nothing else of her and rarely speaks to her outside of meals, only greeting her, making small talk. Yet as hard as her life had been before, she had always been happy to come home at the end of the day. That isn’t true here.
The butler has already taken her umbrella and the red coat she wore earlier; she’s changed for dinner and now enters the dining room.
He, seated, speaks.
“Virginia.”
She glides over to him and kisses him on the cheek.
“I’ll be up late,” he says, “In the study.” As he has said every night for the past week.
“Don’t stay up too late.” As she has said every night in response.
His work in the study—that is what scares her. Some nights she hears nothing, other nights she hears screams, screams that feel as if they’re coming from right behind her, as if someone is there with her even though the bedroom is the next hall over. And the other sounds are even worse. Loud thumps. Voices rasping words she can’t understand. Neither the servants nor her husband speaks of it, but she knows what she hears. And she feels that something is very wrong.
Mrs. Richard Templeton (2), Set #1 - Large Straight
From:Mrs. Richard Templeton (3), Set #1 - Large Straight
From:Mrs. Richard Templeton (4), Set #1 - Large Straight
From:Mrs. Richard Templeton (5), Set #1 - Large Straight
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