She stood beneath a venerable awning, along the august promenade of Central Park West. The air was autumn, though her ensemble was vibrant and invariably spring. Her accoutrements were ivory and amber hues of Chanel, the ruffles on her blouse tickled by the slight wind. The air was brisk, its temperature betrayed by the visible breath on her ruby lips. She was still, her posture stoic, like the valued statues of antiquity she pursued the world over.
Neil Horowitz was escorted from the yellow coach by the ardent doorman, who braved the somberness of a melancholy sky to assist with the Louis Vuitton portage. A slight drizzle began to fall and now Renaldo unsheathed the licorice umbrella, to shield Mr. Horowitz from the rain.
He approached his wife, esteemed luggage in tow.
“Welcome home, dear.” She would allow between raindrops.
Neil mumbled, incoherently. He appeared irritable, unable to abandon the discomfort of his recent journey. As he unzipped a particular tote and began to rummage through its articles, Lucy brandished a familiar smile. It was a mood with which she was well acquainted.
“And how are the Chinese?” she continued.
“Loaded,” he spouted, “And very stubborn.”
The doorman, shrouded beneath the umbrella, waited patiently beside the coach, idling in the rain.
Neil held a small onyx box within his outstretched reach.
Lucy gazed at her husband, puzzled, before accepting the sable coffer. As she began to open the diminutive chest, Neil reached into his pocket, removed a hundred dollar bill, and handed the currency to Renaldo.
“Be sure to get my change.”
The doorman acknowledged, dutifully, moving toward the driver to pay the fare.
Meanwhile, Lucy was awestricken by the amber pendant attached to a necklace of diamonds, encased in platinum. The fossilized gemstone, relative dated at two million years, was once a trinket of Wu Zetian, the sole Empress Regnant of China.
Lucy took leave of the precious pendant, to gaze at her husband once more.
“I don’t understand.”
Neil observed the financial transaction at the taxi, simultaneously addressing his wife.
“I don’t know what it is, but it’s very expensive. I thought you should have it.”
Lucy remained motionless, without words. She returned her attention toward the auburn pendant, as Renaldo returned with the remnants of the hundred dollar bill.
It was Monday morning. 7:47 am.
Neil was ready for rest. His wife was prepared for work.
“And your weekend?” he inquired.
Her thoughts still fastened on the pendant, now wandered toward the sullen hues of an ashen sky.
Implode. Part LVI – DK