Short Story

Once upon a time there was a seventeen-year-old little girl who lived in a palace. Her parents decided she was too young to go out into the world and be a princess. So they sent her to Radcliffe.

It was a series of shocks.

She stepped out of the car, and there was this other girl. In red plaid. Who talked in complete sentences. But it turned out all right. She learned to laugh a lot to break up the girl's sentences.

Her next trial should have been a pleasure. She was joyfully dancing in somebody's arms. When suddenly the arms changed. So did the mouth, because it whispered--"I am a Mind." She thought: "So what else is new?" Then he (of the new arms and mouth) steered her away from the masses. And purred. And broke the news: "Love-isn't-agape-it's-fascination," as he fascinated his arm around her.

It went from bad to worse. Till it crashed. She walked away from the accident in disgust--"Passion, schmassion."

While she was heading for that end she made other beginnings. Good ones. And she went around saying to herself--O what a good girl am I. Others said, You're too cocky. She said, Just put your faith in my confidence.

That was when she still dreamt into the future. But one day when she was busy dreaming, a desperate little song interrupted her--"I wish he'd stay ... with me forever? ... for the rest of the year? ... til Friday?"

From that moment on she lived for Fridays only. She sang Greek with Greeks. She hobnobbed with outcasts in the Bick. She shot hypocrisy. Devoured peaches. Drank gin-and-tonics in February. Flashed white gloves. Picked lilacs. Patronized Hattie Carnegie. Slept in churches. Teased Kay and terrified Claire. Laughed all week and cried Tuesdays. Bought Broadway. Clung to The Wings of the Dove. Pressed a morning into a moment.

She put so much energy into Fridays she had none left for the following Thursdays. One Thursday she fainted. So she said, Goodbye Playground! Decided against becoming a princess. Now she lives with a Syrian under a stairwell. They keep three cats and nineteen children. The cats, of course, have priority seat-wise in the car when they're vacationing, but the children can come too if they like. It's all extremely laissez faire.