“Oh, it was nothing,” Sylvia said. “It’s been a lovely evening.”
It really had been a lovely evening.
– The Bell Jar, I assume
“I love you, Dad,” she said.
“I love you too,” he said.
“By the way,” she said. “I like your black shoes.”
“Thanks,” he said. “They’re from Germany.”
“Which way do you think it looks nicer,” she asked, “with the bell arranged inside of the jar, or with the jar turned over and covering the bell?”
“I think it looks nice both ways,” he said.
It really did.
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story,” she said. “From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.”
“I love figs,” he said. “This sounds like a wonderful story.”
It really was.
“Let’s have some figs, everybody,” said Norma, who came in carrying a tray of figs.
“Figs!” everyone exclaimed. The surprise was figs. (Norma had said before there was going to be a surprise.) Everyone had a wonderful time eating figs, even though the figs were a little sticky. That’s part of the fun of figs.
“Gosh, has anybody seen my bell?” Esther asked.
“Last I saw it, it was by that jar Beth got you,” Samuel said. “Check to see if it’s still there.”
– The Bell Jar, probably
Mallory is an Editor of The Toast.