Life and times of Sally

Sally was sitting at the dinner table as her fingers moving slowly over the starched damask napkin in front of her. A gentle smile on Sally’s face masked the intense white hate that was once again welling up inside of her. So practiced at the art of concealment, no one she knew could see her true feelings as she sweetly asked her husband what he would have preferred to eat. Graeme picked up the plate while looking at her in disgust and deliberately let the plate go and shatter with its contents on the freshly cleaned floor. Looking at her with a familiar cold stare he almost spat out that she should leave that French shit for those that care. Sally, her face totally non committal, looked down at the French styled cheese omelette with wilted spinach and wasabi mushrooms. It was a work of art, she was thinking as she was picking up the pieces of china and food. ‘Keep breathing’ she kept saying to herself, ‘Keep smiling, it’s ok’.