Free Feral Park by Mark Dunn

“I can devise no other reason. I am miserable. Wake up, Mr. Waitwaithe, and look at the woman who loves you and whose misery you are compounding through your ridiculous drowse! Oh, bother. I have now been standing before this window for so long a period that I will be compelled to buy the dress that has by every presumption so thoroughly enchained my eye, only to find upon donning it that it does not favour me at all!”
    Anna was rescued from this most painful conference with herself by her friend Gemma.
    “Good morning, Anna!”
    Anna, startled by the voice, stumbled backwards a step or two.
    “Oh, dear, I have frightened you. I am always frightening people, especially when I must reaffix the leg. Why my mother will not simply buy me one that attaches more dependably, I do not know. And sometimes I feel the irritation of a cinder in the well of my troublesome socket and I must enucleate myself to remove the burr, and it frightens people in equal measure to see a woman holding her eyeball in her palm. But seldom do I startle simply by saying ‘good morning’ with all of my parts intact! When I do, most assuredly, it is you, Anna, who is the alarmed object. Were you in the midst of a reverie as I approached? I have been watching you standing before this window and I have been wondering how you ever could become so captivated by a frock of such poor stitching.”
    “You are half correct. I have been looking at the dress but I have been thinking only of Mr. Waitwaithe.”
    “With no companion thought of my cousin John Dray? Even though he comes soon to Thistlethorn—two days early, in fact! Herein lies the reason for my good cheer in finding you here amongst the shops—the opportunity to amend my earlier invitation to ask if you and your father will dine with us tomorrow evening, rather than on Friday.”
    “You should be happy to learn, Gemma, that to the best of my knowledge, both my father and myself are entirely free of engagement on the morrow.”
    “Most wonderful news! I cannot wait to seat you and cousin John next to one another at table, and sit back and wait for love to knit the two of you together for all time.”
    “Gemma, I must profess that I find your desire for a connexion between Mr. Dray and myself to be an example of the most foolish sort of school-girl matchmaking, especially knowing as you do that my interest in Mr. Waitwaithe has not lessened since the first day that I laid my eyes upon him. You are a very hopeful girl, Gemma Dray. But hope seems all that you are about these days. Remove hope and what is left?”
    “Why is there always such bile in your speech to me! Can we never discuss a thing without your use of scornful and derisive language?”
    Gemma turned to walk away, her sensibilities assaulted once again by the sharp tongue of her habitually depreciating friend Miss Anna Peppercorn. Seized by regret over the injudiciousness of her remark, Anna laid a hand upon Gemma’s arm to prevent her friend’s pettish departure. “I am very sorry, Gemma. My thoughts are terribly crowded these days—and they do not confine themselves only to Mr. Dray and Mr. Waitwaithe. Let us take a turn to the skirts of the village and back, and I shall tell you.”
    Gemma warmed immediately to the opportunity of listening to something from Anna other than her oppugnant jabs and provocative pronouncements, and drew her arm within her friend’s.
    As they strolled past Mr. Waitwaithe’s window in this comfortable fashion, casting their conjoined shadow within, the subject of Anna’s protracted interest occasioned finally to look up. Indeed, the clerk had been asleep— fast asleep— whilst suspended over his papers the whole time. This fact was confirmed by the thread of saliva, which was now clearly pendant from the corner of his mouth, and which descended at its length almost down to his papers and inkhorn. It was not a flattering picture of the young man by any means. The portrait was made even less