hopefully bored

Through the window Mary Ann saw her two children safe on the bus – she finished the dishes and wiped down the breakfast table.

Drying her hands she decided against phoning Michael – his measured conversation at work was never much fun. Or interesting.

With this thought the telephone rang.

“Hellow?” She used a horrible imitation of an English accent for unknown callers.

“Mrs. Smith? Great news here!”

Mary Ann was not Mrs. Smith. She thought about life as a  traditional yet so anonymous ‘Mrs. Smith’.


“The vacation. You’re a winner!”

Vacation images flashed in her mind. Beaches, there were always beaches, but also dimly lit Spanish bars with individual wafts of smoke entwining towards the ceiling.

“Where- Sorry, what’s your name?”

“Roy – name’s Roy. Forgot to mention it”

“Roy, Where am I going?”

“Why beautiful Denver, of course! Perfect slopes this season!”

“Well, Roy, Thanks. Thanks a lot. But I’m afraid I’m not Mrs. Smith.”

There was a pause. “Sorry ma’am, looks like someone put your number down on their card. Smells like fate to me. Of course, I just need a few details to transfer it over.”

“Thanks, Roy.” Her eyes blank – Mary Ann replaced the receiver.

She vacuumed the bedrooms first. Then back downstairs to the dining room. In the hum she heard the hint of a melody. She replaced the vacuum in the closet and walked to the piano. She played a key, and then another. Without any order, a melody started to emerge.