Tea making…


He always considered himself a patient man. But now his patience was wearing thin. When would the old bat finally drop dead and leave him be?

–          What is taking you so long? Albert you are an insufferable child. Always have been. Indeed, I should be reward generously for putting up with you. How long do you plan on making a simple tea, hm?

Albert took out the finest brand of tea he could find in the cupboard. He thought about the times she made him tea. No, wait there were no times like that. His tea and all other meals were served to him by nannies, governesses and alike. His mother would never dirty her fingers with such menial tasks as fixing food for her son. No, she had lots of other things to plan and execute. Always.

–          Coming mother. Here’s your tea mother – Choke on it you old hag, he thought but didn’t voice his thoughts aloud. He didn’t dare.

–          Did you deal with the girl Albert? – His mother fixed him with her stern gaze. Disapproval audible in her voice.

–          It is being taken care of as we speak mother. – He answered as calmly as he could.

–          Really I don’t know how a little brat can give you so much trouble. You are truly incapable of running this business aren’t you?

–          Yes mother –  Albert’s fingers were itching for action. Just a slight pressure of my fingers and your neck would be snapped dear parent, he thought but again kept his thoughts to himself.

Albert’s mother took a sip of her tea and looked at him disapprovingly.

–          Well you still make a horrible tea. I hope your leadership skills are a tad better. Now sit down, we have lots to plan.

Albert sat in front of his mother in a violet, regal armchair and looked at her surly. His mother was many things but she was no fool. And not one to be crossed. If he wanted to succeed he needed her help. No matter how much he resented it.

Daily prompt from: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=628070747220250&set=a.599260846767907.1073741825.175634409130555&type=1&relevant_count=1.

Who loved more?


A.’s mother was a very distant person. Not only from her daughter but also from her husband, parents, relatives. The only thing she seemed to care about were pretty clothes, jewelry, furs, make up kits, and of course reputation. Reputation was everything to her. She wanted to be admired, she wanted to shine, to stand out and absorb everyone’s attention. She was sure she was worth more than being a mere mother hen and a stay at home wife.

She and A. never saw eye to eye. Where her daughter was more relaxed she was tensed, where A. couldn’t care less, her mother was on her toes trying to look the best. It was always quite a wonder, how two such different personalities could be related. Let alone be a mother and a daughter.

It wasn’t any better with A.’s father. An overachiever if you ever so one. Workaholic, alcoholic and occasional gambler. He locked himself in his studies more nights than not, working, drinking, thinking… Barred from his family by a wall he built himself. And he was content with it. As long as A. didn’t get into trouble and he didn’t have to be ashamed of her, she could do whatever she wanted. He simply didn’t care enough. His work was his baby. He devoted himself to it unconditionally.

So the answer to the prompt is: neither of her parents loved A. the most. But that is not where the family ends, right? It does not even end with blood. There are people in this world that care for us gratuitously, not because they are tied to us by etiquette or blood.

A. had lots of people who cared for her and showed her love. She grew up good. She grew up strong. And despite being left alone by her parents, she was never in fact lonely.

Daily prompt from: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=619013948125930&set=a.599260846767907.1073741825.175634409130555&type=1&relevant_count=1.