Dvorak’s Slavonic Dances For Orchestra

Lacey is yar.

But late one rainy night in September Joey decided to run off.

A pretty girl with long, shapely legs in short shorts with perfectly curled thick red hair and a truly pretty face made a pass at him. From her family’s yacht. Late in the afternoon.

Wild looking thunderhead clouds added intrigue and drama off on the benevolent horizon. It had been a humid, hot day. Gorgeous for sailing. …The trees were only just beginning to turn.

But after watching the very pretty redhead around his age run into a pub on the dock, he decided to also make a run for it. If he could catch her in time she’d still be available. Quickness was of the utmost importance.

And since speed mattered…he darted off too quickly to remember to properly secure his boat. As baffling as it might seem…he left it both unmoored and unlocked. Maybe for some reason he thought he had already secured it? …And…after about an hour in the pub the boat, after being tugged at relentlessly the whole time, drifted slowly away from land toward the open sea…

By early morning his yar craft was truly gone. And when he returned for it in the late morning, irritatingly hung-over and looking forward to its comfort he was…shocked. More than anything he was shocked.

…And where did she find herself?

After a perplexing night of being companion to a man who kept drowning and then finding his way supernaturally back on deck…while hearing the faint whispers of giggling artists of the American Golden Age…she wandered into a distant land.

Will she ever see those beloved companions again?

…For tonight she stands at 25 years old. In a strapless dress, high heels, hair in an updo…make-up as it should have always been…in Manhattan. She majored in Art History and is finishing her graduate work at NYU. She is quiet. Decidedly observant. And she loves art history and the city… She was able to focus because she focused on art…

Michael walks up behind her, without announcing himself or his intentions or even saying a word he begins to rub her shoulders. And since she was up too late the night before and pushed herself to attend this art event…she has a headache.

Except Lacey didn’t focus on art history. Pat wasn’t a redhead either. And there were girls who painted their teeth with radium and died…horrific deaths.

… …

Happy Monday.

Happy birthday.

I need to wear Houbigant Orangers En Fleurs.