They Parted On The Best Of Terms

They parted on the best of terms.
   
They also parted friends, even though he felt a sense of injury and hostility toward her.  Who the hell did they think they were?
   
Refreshing to see her so happy for him.
   
He was comfortable right where he was in his chair.
   
He could wait.
   
Their paths crossed again in the kitchen as he was starting away to his studio to sort his mail and consider what to work on next.
   
His passion spent, he was at once exhausted.
   
Sleep was fitful, his morale frayed.  He recalled his conversations in the village that day and questioned his future.  He felt small, humbled, and spoiled.  Dozing off, he had another thought, and this thought was still in his mind when he awoke.
   
Someone must have been telling lies about him.  Without having done anything wrong, Jasper awoke from an uneasy sleep to find himself transformed into a brown beastie carting around something of a hard backed shell on top of him.  With no loss of time and a straw broom, he was battered into the street by his family.
   
Disgusting.  Jasper heard his troll of a parent rage away, determined to brook no contradiction from either of the two women egging him on.  They, his mother and sister, stood crouching in each other’s arms in a corner of the big square foyer, white-faced and appalled.
   
His father snorted.  His father was the one wielding the broom, flourishing at the same time a rolled-up copy of Vogue should Jasper try to scoot back in around him.

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