Library   

                                  

Jessie.
By Ivor Hughes.

JESSIE.

Patty was an Artist and Art Curator for her city and her list of friends was spread across many social strata. The genius of her parties was entirely due to the fact that she had no concept of social strata, to her people were people, and at those times her door was open to receive humanity.

How odd things are the traveler thought. Odder than odd, more like golden threads in a vast web of humanity.

Through a friend of a friend he had been asked to one of Patty�s Parties which were of high repute and invitations were always eagerly sought. But let him speak in his own words.

" I fell into conversation with a man who pretty well summed up all the things I despised in men. He was a middle ranked local Government Employee. He was what may be politely called an �Enabler� .. I tried to listen politely .. but it all became too much .. I rose and commenced to give him a piece of my mind .. Then when nearly in full flight of polemics .. I became aware of a very small bright light .. right between the eyes .. in the place where the third eye is reputed to be.

My voice tailed off as the light insisted on my attention .. completely mesmerized, with my mind locked onto ?????????????

It seemed like I was in a movie theatre and that I was the screen and the projector was located behind me.

Slowly he turned to see who was behind him .. to be met with laughing grey green eyes .. who are you? He said .. what do you want of me? Her eyes changed and became much more distant and penetrating .. �she said� .. always in a rush .. always in a rush .. like a busy bee, you have not changed much at all .. the effect on me was much like a mental stammer, and I could only gape. I could have said what do you mean? .. but I already knew what she meant .. just as I had heard those words before, but much closer to home.

Jessie only had one hand .. the wrist and the hand of the other was a prosthetic device which she kept covered in a soft thin leather glove. Her driving skills were excellent,

she also had her family to care for. So she had obviously mastered her affliction.

She was in her prime .. mid late forties .. slim, of medium height and long black hair amongst which shone an odd strand of silver. Her eyes were most striking and commanded ones attention. She gave him the feeling of amused benevolence, so he felt no need to block or conceal himself for protection.

Jessie took a small book and pencil from her shoulder bag and briskly wrote out her address .. Next Wednesday Evening ..seven thirty prompt .. she said handing the paper to him. I must leave now, enjoy the rest of the party.

Sitting in the crisp night air with the cold white Moon hanging full .. How odd He thought .. and what quirk of fate was this .. The inflexion in Jessie�s voice and her choice of words, was rather like his deceased Mothers � his Mothers name was Jessie. ..

 

Ivor Hughes.
Dedicated to Clare
Auckland New Zealand
22 April 2006.

Back to the index of the stories.

 

 

 

 

      Library