Weedflower

The Party

Her blue dress rustled as she stepped onto the street.

She breathed deeply of the scent from her beautiful bunch of peach stock.

The maid looked surprised to see Sumiko but took her present and flowers.

Something kind of rolled across the room,

Silence.

Marsha’s mother was staring right at Sumiko.

She put out her hand. “I’m Marsha’s mother,” she said.

Sumiko smiled with relief.

She gushed, “Your house is beautiful!”

Marsha’s mother put her arm around Sumiko and moved her onto the front porch.

She’d scarcely had a chance to see the house.

Her eyes were kind.

She smiled so warmly,

Sumiko couldn’t help smiling even harder than she already was.

“Marsha didn’t tell me you were in her class.”

“It’s not me, dear, but my husband…”

“I just want you to understand that if it were up to me…”

And Sumiko realized that she was being uninvited.

She understood,

Sumiko stood on the porch with the cake.

The ballerina,

The music,

The door.

She was Humiliated Sumiko.

This is what it felt like to be lonely.