August drabbles - 19
Puppet Master (4 - Welcome Gift)
“I’ll see her if I like,” cried the poet, and behind him his footman waited bearing gifts.
“What’s in the box?” the father asked, but the poet was calling, loudly now, “Annalea!”
She hurried downstairs, her older sister eagerly trailing behind. “Mike, Mike,” she cried.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” shouted Annalea, though neither parent seemed able to agree.
The footman carried the box inside and showed all the treasures it bore, documents, deeds and promise notes.
“Not quite a starving poet,” said Mike, “but I wanted to be sure you loved me for myself.”
“Then all’s well,” said Dad.
“I’ll see her if I like,” cried the poet, and behind him his footman waited bearing gifts.
“What’s in the box?” the father asked, but the poet was calling, loudly now, “Annalea!”
She hurried downstairs, her older sister eagerly trailing behind. “Mike, Mike,” she cried.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” shouted Annalea, though neither parent seemed able to agree.
The footman carried the box inside and showed all the treasures it bore, documents, deeds and promise notes.
“Not quite a starving poet,” said Mike, “but I wanted to be sure you loved me for myself.”
“Then all’s well,” said Dad.
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