This weeks randomly generated theme is:
A church is the location, threat is the theme. A fur coat is an object that plays a part in the story.
Ok, so here goes:
“Who does she think she is?” I whisper quietly to Mavis. She simply shrugs and tries to focus on the choir as they round out another hymn. I glance back to watch her strolling through the large wooden doors, late again, like she’s so important she can keep God waiting. She’s wearing the coat of course, the one she outbid me for in the village auction. I swear she only wears it to rub it in my face. Everything was just fine before she showed up. I was the interesting one, the one that lived in the big city, that the other girls aspired to be. Now she’s here, with her gaudy American accent and designer handbags, and doddering old husband with more money than sense. No-one seems to care that he’s bought up half the village, all those farms that just couldn’t afford to keep running. No doubt she’s going to build some gaudy monstrosity on all that land, probably a castle to tower over the rest of us.
I watch as the women shuffle over in the pews, all hoping she will sit next to them, but I already know where she’s going to sit. I plant my bum in the seat and resolve to take a stand, and then she is upon me like a large furry bear. She stands impatiently, tapping her inappropriately high heels, waiting for me to move down. As the standoff continues I notice the choir has stopped singing and the priest is staring at us, along with half the congregation. I blush and slide quietly away. She flashes me a big white smile and drawls, “Thank you darlin. Mighty kind of you.”
I watch as the lining of her coat snags on a loose nail as she sits. It will surely be ruined when we stand up for the next hymn. I should warn her, a good Christian would say something. I bow my head in silent prayer and wait patiently for the next song.