Dec 7th prompt from V Tsuion: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
Fortune
He read the first sentence, then slammed shut the borrowed novel in despair…
Dropping it on the sparsely covered thin mattress, clothing scattered there;
No good fortune, no prospects, no good health, certainly no wife.
Lady Luck had deserted him in Maiwand, had almost cost him his life.
So much senseless slaughter, so many mistakes, so many friends had been lost;
A young, eager, invincible medic, with absolutely no idea of war's true cost.
Even this lonely room was stretching his army pension, his meagre means;
Leave the more fortunate to their "happy ever after" wedding scenes.
"Pride and Prejudice"…any element of pride had trickled away months, perhaps years ago.
Prejudice…a word a crippled and sickly and useless ex army surgeon should know.
He represented failure, tarnished dreams, the unthinkable price paid
In the service of his country; a reminder of what happens when hope and glory fade…
~0~
He reads the first sentence, and is immediately transported back to that time and that place…
He never did progress beyond that one line…there were too many demons to face.
He recalls eventually heading out into London's bustling streets, intent on clearing his head.
He grins at the memory; it was fair to say that he found something else instead…
An old acquaintance from medical school, an introduction, the prospect of sharing a flat;
A solution to his immediate financial difficulties , and so much more than that.
A comfortable home, gainful employment, an environment in which wounds could mend,
The chance to stretch his writing skills, the thrill of adventures in the company of a friend,
And a happy marriage, albeit with Miss Austen's opening sentiment set in reverse;
The presumed "good fortune" of his intended seen, not as blessing, but as curse.
He blinks rapidly, could so much time really have passed since his Mary was gone?
Then, with a fond glance at the figure curled up in the fireside chair opposite,
He reads on.
~0~