This week’s prompt:
Envy, a jacket, glasses
Red silk with black fur. The smoking jacket was top of the line. There was nothing faux or man made in it. Real silkworms died to make it and a real black…something. Had died for the accents. He was not really sure What the animal was supposed to be. Mink? Ermine? They were all basically long smelly rats when alive, but dammed expensive once deceased. And that was the part that counted. He ran his fingers over the soft cuffs. Yes, damn nice after they were dead. He let himself into the study. The doors were heavy and stained a dark brown. The rugs in here were silk, woven in exotic patterns and scenes. The one near the fire looked like it was from the Ottoman Empire or something. Not that he knew for sure. It was how it looked that mattered. And how much it cost. No fire was lit tonight, so he sat himself at the dark, ornate desk. The top was inlaid with pearl and ivory. It was all polished to a sheen so fine you could use it as a mirror. He should know. He was the one that polished it after all. He sat in the expensive chair and propped his slippered feet on the shiny surface. He pulled his reading glasses from a pocket and placed them on his nose. The pile of letters on the blotter were opened, and he took the first one out. Dear Sir, it started. And he smiled. He knew this letter. It was the reason he had time to sit in his boss’s chair, in his boss’s jacket, in his boss’s study. The man had it all, but for one night he could pretend it was all his. And maybe someday it would be.
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