A Tribute to Margot


A Tribute to Margot

Margot traipsed as if she had sapphires hidden in her shoes. A perfectly placed white diamond the size of a pecan was permanently affixed to her forehead. The rest of her tiara, with sparkling clean-cut diamonds of a smaller size, was a creation of her porcine imagination and rested perfectly on her straight-edged ears. Sometimes it was caked with mud. Other times there were strands of golden straw nestled among the precious gemstones, having collected themselves there from after a nap under an equally golden bale.

When Margot slept, she slept soundly…under carefully dissected straw bales, or perfectly positioned discarded blankets, or brown Sycamore leaves formed into a nest for two. Her Chenoa-life companion, Gladys, almost always sleeping by her side.

She never discussed her life before her arrival to the manor. When the subject was broached she was casually evasive, selecting her words the way she selected the slightly over ripened produce she relished. Margot never turned her nose at produce or other morsels of deliciousness, having a special fondness for veggie subs from Capriotti’s (with olive oil, no mayo, please). Margot especially enjoyed the smell and taste of their day old rolls…carefully selecting the perfect size for her narrow mouth and carrying them like coveted trophies from past beauty pageants, to be eaten in seclusion, away from prying eyes.

For over twelve years she meandered about the manor, dutifully greeting visitors and inspecting their bags (more so if they crinkled loudly) like a Homeland Security agent looking for suspicious paraphernalia. Margot was gracious and demure, tolerating the presence of the other residents….especially if they dropped savory morsels from their mouths during mealtime.

She was fond of the moon, preferring it full…often pondering how a slice of the moon would taste. And on those full moon evenings, with moonbeams cascading and illuminating the pastures, Margot was, on occasion, moved to dance, while fireflies flashed their phosphorescent approval. Now she sits among the other celestial bodies, her tiara twinkling extra brightly, lighting the night sky for the rest of Chenoa’s residents.