Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
At brunch, the three young girls sit on the left of the table, and their mothers face them on the other side. The girls chat over their pancakes, modeling their mothers. The mothers laugh and sigh and give cautious looks toward their daughters–checking to see if all is well, smiling at their little girl. One of the girls wears a purple t-shirt and is struck by a difference between her friends and their mothers. Each little girl has milk in a plastic cup with a lid and a straw. The mothers drink coffee from white mugs. She whispers conspiratorially with her pals, and they nod toward the mugs that were set on the table before anyone had arrived. Along with the knife, fork, and spoon wrapped in a white napkin, someone had already left coffee mugs at each place, expecting anyone who took a seat there to need all these dishes to enjoy their meal.
One girl beams, a second girl appears nervous, and the third charges on ahead. She slides the mug closer, turns it upright before her, uncaps her milk and pours it into the coffee mug. She wraps her hands around the porcelain, she pretends to blow at the top–as her mother does. She takes a drink of her relocated milk and smiles at her friends. They also begin the sneaky process of going from plastic cups–obviously for young girls–to the coffee mugs–a sign of breakfast elegance. The mothers have seen the whole process unfolding and glance knowingly at each other, delighting in the fact that their girls are still young enough to wish to be like Mom. So the six women, three taller and three shorter, become indiscernible as they chat, as they nibble, as they sip.