Month: December 2016

Muted Lavender

Words and Photo by A.A. Reinecke  The sucked dry half of a lemon stood atop a saucer, posing as an inverted rose. The other half was raised to the lips of a brunette. Outside, through the window, the yard was snowed; the oaks sat proud in their age, the previous day’s snowman lounged beside the hedges. Town’s outline—pointed roofs and chimney smoke—was visible from the whited lawn. Beyond the waltzing smell of fire was the Hudson spread at the foot of town, deep gray polished like glass with the weather. Speckled lights of steamers hummed down the way and a fearless sail boat inched along the shoreline. Emmeline and Ryan Corrigan, the former the brunette sucking the lemon rose, stood in the front foyer of a very clean, large, white house, which out front bore the revival columns of Rome set down in New England. The girls were a panoply of browns and grays in cashmere stockings, pullovers, wool coats. Ryan tugged at her corduroy skirt and then at her hair. “Know Ryan saw them,” …