The First-Rank Widow

In her ears, there was no elegant classical music from the twenty-first century. She still remembered the antique gramophone she had bought a few years ago. Though quaint, it had a rich, mellow sound that was wonderfully tranquil. Every time she came home from work, she had to put on a classical record and pour herself a glass of red wine to unwind. When she was in a good mood, she would close her eyes and listen intently. The heels of her shoes clicked against the mahogany floor, like the most beautiful solo in the world. On days off, she would put on simple, plain loungewear and sprawl without a care for appearances on the luxurious white sofa. Then she would pull a book from the shelf…