Psappho

By Jeffrey A. Paolano

Penny tops her ensemble with a sunhat encircled by a gay, erubescent scarf ablaze with the likeness of delphiniums. A last peek at the mirror assures her wished-for semblance.

Dancing trippingly down the stairs, she bursts through the door to find Bosco and Corrine sitting upon the stoop, gaily conversing.

“Good morning, my darling,” sings out Penny.

“Good morning,” reply the two in unison.

Penny bends down giving Corrine a hug incorporating a smoldering osculation. Then with a single wing she with dutiful indifference envelops Bosco’s shoulder.

“Come on, gang,” enjoins Corrine.

Bosco sidles up to Penny, oblivious of obvious verity.