The Fabulous Lives of the Unencumbered -- Luna
There is an old saying: More money than sense. It speaks specifically to the charmed lives of the rich and powerful. Those who don't see the silver platter that everything comes to them on. To them, it's as invisible as the air they breathe.
Submitted for your education: Klaratynne Shiffohen D'Arbuette.
Every morning, they rose and shone. Well rested and revitalised as their bedchamber was designed to give them every ease. No matter which side they slid out on, a pair of slippers was placed just so to meet their bare feet. Their toilet seat is always warm. The light that enters their chambers is always at just the right levels. There's no mess. No clutter.
Their shower is always at the correct temperature right after they turned on the water. The floor never lets them slip. Their towel is always in reach. Soap never stings their eyes. Their clothing waits for them. Clean, pressed, co-ordinated, and styled according to their schedule for the coming day.
Not a speck of their breakfast spills from their lips. They don't even lift their cutlery nor cup. Others do that for them. They don't dab at their own lips, nor apply their own makeup or jewellery.
Klara didn't have to remember anything because others remembered it for them. They were thin and attractive and never had to do anything more than smile, and read for the cameras, or pose with the product of the day. It was a tough job and it did so well for them.
Obviously it did. They never had a concern about money. They could always have anything they wanted - even if they never used it.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn't.
One day, Klara rose and shone, but their slippers weren't there. Their feet hit the flooring with nothing between the thick, plush carpet and their toes. The toilet was still warm and the shower remained the correct temperature, but there were no clean and pressed clothes waiting for them.
They had to put their pyjamas back on.
Embarrassing.
Nobody was there to make their breakfast. Nobody was there to feed them. Nobody read their schedule, nor answered their phone, nor arranged things.
Nobody at all.
Klara wandered through their mansion, calling out for anyone. First angry, then frightened, then hysterical. There was no-one to clean up anything Klara left lying around. Nobody to make their bed. This was wrong. Everything was wrong!
They tried to throw a tantrum, yelling, "Why won't anyone look after me?" and stamped their feet. But Klara's soft soles were not used to the hard marble and they hurt themself.
It was such a shock that they collapsed then and there, howling like an infant.
Someone did, eventually, come. An Authority in a crisp uniform and a dour demeanor. "Klara D'Arbuette, you have been found aggregiously in arrears. You have the right to remain silent, should you violate that right, you will be forced to remain silent. Do you understand?"
"No?" Klara sobbed. "Everything's s'posed'a be perfect."
It was a very rough way to learn that their world had been falling apart for years. All because they insisted their world be perfect, and no bad news reach their perfect ears. Klara had to have the right attitude for the public, after all.
Klara did not like bad news. They did not like people telling them what to do. Especially when it was different to what they had been doing for such a long time already.
After all, there was always the work to do. Wasn't there?
Another falsity. Klara's staff pretending that Klara still had work. Making things easy for as long as the funds lasted. Their accountant bought the audience numbers. The scheduler falsified the data. All doing what they were told to make Klara's life as soft as possible.
Only for the truth to hit that much harder.
[Photo by Teslariu Mihai on Unsplash]
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