Gracious Hosts
In her diaphanous white dress
Alice resembled a particularly
lovely angel moving forth and
back and forth and back with
unfailing politeness. But when
she invited Tom, just Tom, out on
the terrace for a drink he smelled
the terror on her skin for she,
like Tom, was edible by nature and
the party guests had almost eaten
her up. She asked would you just
stand close to me? He stood close.
They didn’t touch their drinks but
wordlessly fed off the remains of
each other, growing fresh limbs to
carry them through until the last
guest left and hell was over again.
Sometimes it’s hard to be a people pleasing introvert.
Ah. The introvert-hosting-a-party experience. So exhausting!
Oh my…. I read and reread your gifts to us.
perfectly captured. and I’m not even a true introvert . . . just over on the ‘e’ scale. but most days, it don’t feel like it, that’s for dang sure.
I missed this when it came through in November. But it was perfectly timed to read it today, after the series of lunches we hosted over the last few days. Thank you, John.