Duchess of Tiffany

         She pressed her face against the screen. She quickly stuck out her tongue and then grimaced at the bitter, salty, nasty taste that greeted her. She ran back into the room and hid behind a high chair. In came the sweeping and high sounding notes of her governess.
         "Allison! Your papa is here and wishes to see you! Come, I know you are here." The governess danced around the room as though this news was worthy of elation. Allison knew better. She slowly rose from behind her safehouse and sulked over to the doorway. Her eyes rolled almost all the way out of her head when she looked back at the governess so that she would know she thought her delay was the gravest of insults to the Duchess of Tiffany. Her keeper rolled her eyes nearly as deeply when her charge turned and marched into the hall.
         Allison put her little comb back in her pocket after running it quickly through her hair. She wiggled her toes in her tight shoes and hoped her father had thought to bring her some clothing and footwear that fit. She stood up straight and folded her hands as the door opened slowly and he loomed larger than life. The bitter taste from the screen came back. He stormed in and asked that lady in charge of her about her preparedness for dinner.
         Allison sat at a small table in one corner of her apartment. Her mother spooned Hamburger Helper on their plates and her father grumbled about eating this shit again. Allison pictured her mother as the governess. She was giving her a lesson on manners. "Fold your napkin on your lap dear, like so. Oh Duke, isn't your daughter the prettiest young lady in the land?"


Word Count: 295