“I’m keeping the lamps.”
The woman who said this was a slender blonde, properly coutured and Gucci attired. Her eyes obscured by the trendiest of sunglasses, her hair shining in the midday sun. She tapped out a long cigarette from the case and toyed with it.
The petite brunette wearing a blue sun dress sitting across from her ignored her glass of Shiraz. the play of her sandled toe against the cobble-stoned walkway upon which the table rested telegraphed a kind of sweet sadness.
“I don’t care about the lamps. The only thing I want in the world is to spend another hour–“
The blonde drank her wine, smoked her cigarette and demanded a second glass.
“I always loved you,” The brunette said after a proper length of time had elapsed. “I would brag about you. This is my sister, my wonderful, beautiful, brilliant and talented sister. She is going to be a famous ballerina one day.” She smiled. “And so you did.”
“All I ever wanted was to be your sister.”
“You were so filthy. Even as a child there was something nasty about you. You disgust me. I can’t bear the sight of you.”
“We cannot even be friends? Not even now, especially with–“
“You can’t have the lamps.”
The brunette finished her Shiraz. Her sister checked her watch.
“Elena will be here soon.”
“I don’t care.”
“I guess we are done then,” The brunette said as if she read the words from a tombstone.
The blonde rose, and gestured for the waiter with her credit card.
“I wish it could have been different between us,” the brunette said. “All I ever wanted was your approval.” She offered a wan smile. “Can’t you like me, not even a little?”
The blonde paused for a moment, then turned her back on her sister and walked out into the crowd.
The brunette watched as the blonde disappeared into the throng of New Orleans shoppers and party goers.. Sighing, she ordered another shiraz and waited for her Elena.