Genevieve; the Third of January by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Chapter 1

The holidays were over and that’s exactly how it felt to Genevieve. Her eyes opened. She looked out from her wicker bed and pondered the possibility of staying there in the oft failed hope that her inaction would cause everything else to also be tranquil. ...... That thought also just happened to seem a better one to profess than just admitting that she was lazy and liked being in her warm bed.

Genevieve; the kind courtesy of Pexels,com under their CC0 license; modified.

Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day had come with their usual celebrations, and gone leaving their usual post-partum despair.

One could not be too critical of the holidays themselves, as it was not their choice that they had to come to an end. That abomination was more attributable to the makers of calendars,

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who in turn were just trying to make a few bucks off some not-yet-disproven, scientific theory suitable to those with an extravagant need to find some degree of solace in having others define things undefinable for them, those with an interest in the time value of money,

Calendar; the kind courtesy of Pexels,com under their CC0 license; a tad modified.

and/or that relative Einstein guy-legend-myth with his silly notions about those space-gravity-time inevitable limitations.

“And that’s more or less all there is to it, relatively speaking or not.”

Einstein with his equation; property of the author.

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Despite that, or more likely totally unaware of that the decorated tree sat there, stoically, but also resplendent.

Christmas tree; the kind courtesy of Pexels,com under their CC0 license; modified.

.

Maybe the worst part of this season for Genevieve was the necessity of once again un-decorating the glorious tree which gently presided over and was a center of attention during the holidays, and now being stuck with the unenviable task of disposing of a friend. The spruce had been cut down and sacrificed for celebration because it was the prettiest. But, now, denied water and roots for two weeks, its quadrangled needles were browning. The drier it became the greater the fire hazard. Genevieve knew that she had to get it out of her house, but kept thinking; “Tomorrow. It’s only a little bit tanner today.”

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Little Genevieve in her big yard; the kind courtesy of Pexels,com under their CC0 license.

Duties are most often not fun and many times it might have been preferable to again be a puppy, and let all the adults make the decisions. This desirable situation opens up the possibility of having absolutely no responsibility to make the tough decisions. All be said and undoubtedly will be said in proper choir format, there are just some situations when no decision is good; lesser of evil the maximum possibility. When Genevieve was a pup, she had every opportunity to admonish her parents for a bad choice. She was only surprised when they agreed with her.

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