Two Sister Marys
September 5, 2014 § Leave a comment
Two Sister Marys – a Euclid’s Flash
Story by Eric Martin
Images from Wikimedia Commons
Bob and Leroy had just sat down in a slightly uncomfortable, fake-leather-seated booth at the café. Two nuns sat at a small table across from them, also looking uncomfortable.
One of the nuns was taller than the other and a good deal older. The shorter one was drinking a cup of coffee to the other’s tea.
The tall one said abruptly, “Sister Mary, you really should stop drinking coffee. And, sit up straight. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you.” And she made an old nun’s tsk-tsk before sipping her tea.
The shorter one, Sister Mary, looked hard at the older nun across the table. Her eyes were deadly. Bob and Leroy watched them with blatant interest.
In a fit, suddenly, Sister Mary tore off her head covering and balled it up in a white-knuckled fist.
“Sister Mary,” said, the shorter Mary, “I have lost track of how many times you have told me that over these last ten months, but it’s the third time today.” As she spoke her voice rose in pitch and intensity.
Now she was yelling. “I don’t know, Sister Mary,” she sneered the name, especially the Sister part, “what is more amazing: the fact that I’m not just like you after all your fucking advice or that you still don’t understand that that is what you are trying to do – turn me into a straight-backed stodgy old bitch like you!”
She threw her head piece at the tall Sister Mary’s head, almost knocking off her head piece. The short Sister Mary stood up and stormed out of the café while the other Sister Mary watched her leave then, abashedly, took a sip from her tea before going to the counter to pay.
Bob turned to Leroy and laughed, “You don’t see that everyday.”