Monday, March 20, 2017

The Chronicles of Lady D

When Lady D was not yet 15, her esteemed father decided to uproot his family from their rustic but spacious house to a more urbane locale where his daughters might do better for themselves. Lady D had looked forward to this moment hoping that a young gentleman would respond to her arrival with a similar sentiment to Mrs Bennet's happy pronouncement of 'Netherfield Park being let at last.' Many a tale she wove imagining handsome young strapping men to make eyes at. Literature had taught her that her anomalous position would elevate her in the eyes of the neighbouring young boys by the sheer virtue of novelty.

How her heart broke when not only were there no handsome gentlemen of her age anywhere around her new residence, but the plague of a feminine antithesis as a close neighbour descended on her as well. Lady Ursula defied the banalities of her Disney defiled name by being the  most beautiful, sophisticated and ethereal form of teenage feminity.

This author can confirm that apart from that one moment of childish coquettishness when Lady D attempted to feign interest in a cute dog to court the favour of a handsome gent, there have never been any sightings of handsome men in that area. That particular phantom of handsomeness, Lady D reminisces was just that - a phantom. He was never seen again and neither was his dog who went by the most unoriginal moniker of 'Dash' for a dashound.

It seems quite plausible to understand given this dystopian novel level of dashing of Lady D's hopes for feality that within six months of moving to her new house, her ovaries started their cycle of intermittent strikes.  Lady D's body, mind and soul were attempting to compensate the torrid war level lack of suitable young men. 

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