Miss Patsy was a sweet lady in her sixties, big brown eyes
and lazy smile, soft gestures and gentle posture every time she wanted her wishes
to be satisfied. Miss Patsy didn’t like to talk loud, “it’s not appropriate for
a real lady” she used to say, but often forgot it when in some shop or
restaurant the waitress did something wrong. “I asked for a fresh orange juice
you incompetent!” she would not be afraid to scream.
A spoiled child by her parents, Miss Patsy did never totally
grow up. An immature and childish sense of unfairness would make her cry over
the injustice she was a victim. “Because people are never nice to me, because
red lights are always against me, because nobody understands how important it is
for me to have a brand new car today!”
She was never very happy, Miss Patsy, and she never married.
She had a bunch of boyfriends, enchanted by her eyes, scared away by her mood
swings and demands.
Poor Miss Patsy died when she wanted only to be independent
– she was getting out the subway when someone whispered to her “please mind the
gap”. But she knew no one in earth could tell her what to do and so she didn’t
listen.
Other passengers had to wait for 5 hours while the fireman
managed to take out the stubborn body.
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