Necrophelines
Chapter 1
The small auditorium became the bottom chamber of a turned hourglass as Rachel's fans, like grains of sand, gradually filled in from the upstairs dining hall. Dinner had been a delicious meal of chicken with cooked string beans and corn, and now the men and women, most of them married couples, smiled and nodded to each other anticipating the viewing portion of the evening. The men's suits were worn like proud uniforms. The women - some young and beautiful, others attempting to be - wore pearls and jewelry. The baubles were the only attire that differentiated the women among themselves. Otherwise they all looked the same.
Rachel, arm in arm with her brother, blended in well among the older women. "Harold," she said, "have I ever told you how much you look like my brother?" Barry looked at her and sighed. "Only older, of course," she added. Her brother helped her to her seat for the viewing of the film classic.
Bubbling bustle of the click clicking heels. Swosh Swoosh, pant leg subtle sound in background. Ha, ha, chalk-like chatter of the excuse me and so sorry and pardon me but my seat is over there.
"That must be the worst ceiling-painting I've ever seen!" big belly, round belly, huggable bubble, but pickled with pompous voice. He troubled his bubble plop right next to Sarah Sweet Sarah's seat. Sarah Sweet looked up and hi there high sky star-peppered painting on ceiling. Stars shine forever, don't they Sarah? Ah, sweet sigh from the Sarah smile and how much it was like not being indoors at all. Little dimpled girl sat on the other side of Sarah. Aww.
"Hello there, young lady," Sarah sang.
"Hi, that man is trying to look down your shirt." Dimples pointed at naughty belly man who was now robed in a red face.
Several rows down, he was a handsome man, he was a young man, he was a well polished, fine tuned example of a man, man of right and just and honor, he was a man attempting to get to his seat and he was a man unaware of the women who were admiring his good-looks. Obviously our hero. When everyone was seated, a wearer of a statue-gray suit stood on stage and spoke blah-blah brilliant techniques blah-blah setting blah-blah plot blah-blah character development. But how rude! How inconsiderate! A child in the left-hand corner of the room was whining. The boy whines made it impossible to hear what the speaker was saying. A single mezzo-forte sweep of the strings. The speaker scowled in the direction of the child.
The mother of the boy began her own wiggle waggle and noise. Sarah straightened up to see why such commotion. Pop! A short gentleman with a black fedora stood up. Pop! Pop! Two women in brightly colored evening gowns also stood; perhaps they've seen a mouse. Mumblemumble surrounding the crying boy. Is he hurt? What's the matter? EEEEEKKK! AAAAAAHHH!