Challenge: Include a fictional character, a plum, some cheese, and one of your ancestors.
Elizabeth Bennet walks into a bar —
No, that’s ridiculous. She’s in the park, the one with the swings, idly munching half squashed plums and brie on Triscuits, reading Sue Grafton and trying to find a way to sit on the old Mexican blanket she borrowed from my trunk that doesn’t fry her back. Good luck with that, Lizzie. She’s waiting for Darcy, who, at last check in, was just finishing 3 holes at Hilly Haven with a guy he met at the driving range last Saturday. Not too long from now, they’ll walk into a bar and order a round of brandy Old Fashioneds, muddled, forgetting poor Lizzie in typical bad boy married style, so that she, like my favorite grandmother, will roll up the blanket, pack the cheese, bury the plum pits, clap a hat on her head, and march off to the river to watch pelicans dive and swoop in formation, delighting in their freedom and precision, and plan her next solo trip to Italy, or maybe Japan.