On bad days/ Allison Pataki
“Enough of that rotten ink,” he declared, rolling up his sleeves as he turned his focus toward me.
“Not going to let that poison stick. We Posts never stay down for long. We always get back up to go another round. Now, how are you, Budgie?” I squared my shoulders as I answered,
“I’m good, Papa.”
With Papa, there were only good days and great days. On bad days, he wanted to know how I aimed to turn things around to finish out with some good.
It is understandable that many readers may find it difficult to love Marjorie Post, as it may seem that everything she touches turns to gold. She possesses an abundance of luck we ordinary mortals rarely experience.
I belong to another generation/ Scott F. Fitzgerald
“Yeah, Gatsby’s very careful about women. He would never so much as look at a friend’s wife.”
When the subject of this instinctive trust returned to the table and sat down Mr. Wolfshiem drank his coffee with a jerk and got to his feet.
“I have enjoyed my lunch,” he said, “and I’m going to run off from you two young men before I outstay my welcome.”
“Don’t hurry, Meyer,” said Gatsby, without enthusiasm.
Mr. Wolfshiem raised his hand in a sort of benediction.
“You’re very polite, but I belong to another generation,” he announced solemnly. “You sit here and discuss your sports and your young ladies and your—” He supplied an imaginary noun with another wave of his hand. “As for me, I am fifty years old, and I won’t impose myself on you any longer.”
