by Vaughan Savidge
Diane's shoes twinkled as they caught the last of the sunlight as she made her way, on
foot, from the Mid-levels to one of the world's leading hotels. This was not a charitable
fun walk - this was a walk full of uncharitable thoughts about her husband and his bloody
car. When would he replace the old jalopy with a new one?
Suddenly - inexplicably - a tear formed in her eye. Suddenly an overwhelming tiredness
- overwhelmed her. "When will he replace the old jalopy with a new one" she
shrieked out loud as she damned the flood of tears with a hand woven Royal macramé
handkerchief given her by Camilla Parker-Pen.
"Oh my God!" she thought aloud. "What am I doing? What would happen if
Crystal, Chantal or Flora happened by now and saw me like this?"
Just then, Crystal, Chantal and Flora happened by, and, seeing her like that, ordered
their chauffeurs to get out and see what the matter was.
"Tell your dear sweet mem sahibs, they're extremely thoughtful, but I'm following
doctors orders!" Diane said, pressing a new two dollar coin into each drivers' hand.
"Yes, tell miladies that I visited a dear sweet man in New York who told me of a
great new fashionable craze among the glutinously rich on the East coast, called
walking!"
When there is little in life besides fashion, a new one can be very attractive, but
perhaps not so much as the sight of six well-shaved legs doing the high-heeled stumble
down Garden Road.
"It's no wonder it's caught on in the States" Diane said to Crystal, Chantal
and Flora as they faltered towards Central. "We should hold a ball to celebrate
walking."
At long last, an opportunity to do what came naturally - hold balls. Diane sighed
contentedly. Life was so exciting.
