Hola

Cecilia González García

Prof. R. Olmeda
Writing Activity #2



The Last Laugh





Like any other Monday morning, she plastered her lipstick all over her think lips. She looked atherself once again in the mirror. Any other day she would have cried, but her wrinkly eyes felt as dry as the Arizona dessert she was born in. She was so tired. She had been tousling and turning all nightlong, it was very rare that she fell asleep in the office, but after last week she was too tired to go back home. But that day, that rainy Monday, was her day, it had to be. The smell of her ChanelNo 3 ran thru the hallways like lightening, she knew she had till noon to get to her house, but she decided that a little walk wouldn’t kill anyone.





She went to the Mayorca café to gether usual coffee and boiled eggs. She ate her breakfast quietly savoring every last bite, making sure she chewed each piece with patience. The clock struck ten. She slowly got up, making sure not tohurt her swollen back, and continued her day. None of the co-workers paid any extra attention to her they we’re used to see the gray haired beauty alone and quiet, it was sort of her trademark,nobody really minded. She walked thru the streets with the confidence of a new licensed teenager, nobody could touch her, she was the governor’s wife, the iron-lady. It feels nice to know you’reunreachable sometimes. But not everything that shimmers is gold and some frames are more crocked than what they seem. Her leopard printed bag weighted 500 pounds today, she felt the leather burn on her rustyshoulder, she had to walk faster. She passed the familiar markets, occasionally smiling at a random child or a melancholic old man, some smiled back, some didn’t. None of them knew it was the last timethey would see her bright blue eyes again.


She stood in her doorway looking at her keys. They are still in the living room where she left them I think. She entered the cold house the smell of...