The Authentic Eclectic

The Unchosen

A man was at the door. His skin was pallid white and alcoholic red, and he was short and plump, in a brown suit with red pinstripes, with such an abundance of brown facial hair that only his eyes and nose were visible under his brown felt tophat.

Source: https://www.wikiart.org/en/theo-van-rysselberghe/the-sisters-of-the-painter-schlobach-1884 — fair use

He made Sarah think, in succession, of a gnome, a chipmunk, and a gopher. She stared in a mixture of fear and curiosity, but Lydia, being the elder, recovered herself enough to say, “Good day, sir.”

“Good day,” he replied, doffing his hat.

He offered nothing further, so Lydia asked, “Are you here to see someone?”

“Ah…” He scratched his furry head. “Yes!” He returned his hat. “I am here to see you.” When he said it, he looked directly at Sarah, who squeaked not unlike a chipmunk herself.

It is the unfortunate case that Lydia felt just a slight bit jealous, even though she didn’t know the man or why he had come. This can perhaps be attributed to the recent birth of their brother, which reminded her of Sarah’s birth: she had a clear memory of the doting and cooing that accompanied both of these younger siblings’ early stages, but no such memory for herself, which made her feel as though she had missed something. In an effort to suppress and conceal this jealousy, she swung hard in the opposite of her impulse, which…