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"Darn These Skirts" A Short Story About A Girl, Set In England The Same Year That It Found And Made New Zealand A British Colony.

829 words - 3 pages

It was a horrid winter morning, the most bitter we'd had all year. I had searched all through the house for my bonnet, but it was no where to be found. Betsy had been sent to the market, I couldn't ask her. Darn. I ventured into the parlour. The fire had gone out and it was draughty, stale cigar smoke filled the air. Half-full brandy snifters rested on various tables around the room. Papa must have had a business meeting. I was going to be late. As I rushed out of the parlour, I noticed my bonnet sitting upon the book shelf. No doubt put there by Betsy in one of her many muddled moments. I smiled to myself. Now the book I had found sitting on my dressing table wasn't such a mystery. I loved her dearly, but honestly.Rushing to the front door, I picked up my gloves and coat, stopping only long enough fix my hair underneath my bonnet. I was terrible at styling it myself, Betsy usually did it. I get too impatient. Oh bother it, I'll just let it hang down. At least my hair had been in rags during the night. Jeffery called after me as I dashed towards the gate. I shook my head quickly at him and waved goodbye. A carriage would take too long to prepare, I was late as it was. He wished me luck.It had obviously rained heavily the night before. Darn. The streets were wet with large muddy puddles everywhere. I tried to hold up my skirts as I walked, but kept losing grip. Darn long skirts, darn layered petticoats and darn the rain! Maybe I should have waited for a carriage. No matter, at least my coat would cover the mud-soaked hems of my skirt. I realized then, that I was still holding it in my arms. It was a wonder I didn't already have hypothermia. I quickly threw it around my shoulders and started the task of fastening the many buttons. My fingers were too cold to work as fast as I wanted them to, and the thick gloves did not help. I stopped a while to button them all. That was time I did not have to waste. Darn darn darn.The main street was empty, a most unusual sight for a Saturday morning. The absence of horses hooves on the cobblestones gave quite an eerie feeling. The strange silence made me feel as if I...

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