Image: Ann Mansolino
Jane sees Louise
Louise sees Jane
They rush towards each other
Jane very business like
Power suited to the hilt
Louise in jeans, smart and efficient.
‘They know,’ says Louise
‘They know everything.’
‘How could they?’ asks Jane
‘The kids snitched on you
Said they heard the rumours
The tell-tale lies you were spreading.’
‘It’s impossible.’ says Jane. ‘What will mummy and daddy say?’
‘It’s the least of your issues,’ says Louise
‘The social media is having a field day
You are persona non-gratia.’
‘How did it get out?’ Jane wonders.
‘The boss’s son spilt the beans,’ says Louise
‘Told one then another.
You should never have seduced him
Left your knickers on his bedstead.
He filmed it all
It was just a matter of time.’
Jane is mortified
The pretense over.
She’ll go on pretending
Being the professional, the executive
An outcast, unwanted, a pariah.
She’ll continue to dress the part
Bury her head in the sand
Deny everything in her reality.
In the shop window she sees a new business outfit,
Holding her already overdrawn credit card
She enters, flashes her irresistible professional smile
Impressive as always.
Inside the pain increases
She dies a little more
As she sinks further
Into the morass of her making.