The Affair

Donna had never been one to stray from the rules. She pressed and cleaned her husband’s suit, and placed the morning paper beside his oatmeal every morning. When he would arrive home, she knew to greet him with brandy and the cigars he loved so much from the shop down on fifth and tenth. Yes, Donna was never one to stray from the rules, except when fidelity was on the table. She fancied herself a tad feisty, and she had long since learned her husband was neither lover nor passionate. He had managed to give her a beautiful baby girl they called Marjorie. However, for all her efforts she was no longer desirous to the man and so resigned herself to a life of dissatisfaction. It was not until her trip to the super market on a Tuesday afternoon she happened upon Mr. Penny. Mr. Penny was a businessman, with dark features and broad shoulders, perfectly draped in a navy suit and a kerchief peeking out from his breast pocket. His eyes were kind, and his tongue was kinder. No sooner had he spoken to Donna were they were rustling about in the linen sheets of his penthouse flat.

Marjorie was a rebellious girl. Her mother was a timid mouse and her father holed up in an office somewhere on sixth from morning until night. Though many were fooled by her rosy cheeks and the bounce in her step, she would never shy from bending a rule here and there. She was one to pull up her bobby socks and head out the door in the morning, only to be caught with a cigarette in the ladies’ room during fifth period. Friday nights she reserved for long nights at the drive in; of course, she could never tell you what film had played that evening. And Saturdays were for trips to the local diner, or so she told her mother. It did not matter what she was really up to as long as it was against her mother’s will. She was a tad feisty, and enjoyed every minute of it. But it was not until she met Mr. Penny on a Wednesday afternoon that she realized how truly tantalizing life could be. Mr. Penny was a businessman, with dark features and broad shoulders, perfectly draped in a navy suit and a kerchief peeking out from his breast pocket. His eyes were kind, and his tongue was kinder. No sooner had he spoken to Marjorie were they were rustling about in the linen sheets of his penthouse flat.