This story conjured up all kinds of imagery for me. Africa. A shaded bar in a shady hotel. Rattan furniture. Slowly turning ceiling fans. 1932 or thereabouts. An English battleaxe of a mother-in-law with perhaps a slight excess of self-confidence and who exudes the sense that she is entitled to get what she wants. A young woman married above her station and a bit intimidated by her new life with the son of an upper class family. Her first trip to the Dark Continent. Little does she know that they will, in 10 years or so, be living in a large ranch house on a sugar plantation in Zanzibar.
I can see this so clearly and yet I don’t think that’s really the scene that you tried to set.
Actually, you nailed it! That’s what I was going for. The story started out a lot longer and I had to cut out a lot, so I’m glad that the background came through.
mark.i.wang
MaddyRose
August 2nd
MaddyRose