Writing Exercise

A rumble of thunder sounded from outside and pulsated through the flagstone floor tiles. Celia raced to the window ‘Yes, Bloody yes! Come on, rain!’ clasping a small velvet drawstring bag, Celia sat on tenterhooks, scanning the sky for any suggestion of water particles. ‘rainrainrainrainrainrain...’ she chanted under her breath, willing the God’s to open up the heavens. ‘YES!’ she squealed as a few measly drops dribbled in the distance and landed in the lake that was precariously located in front of the house or ‘miniature castle.’ as the real estate man had told her. Controversially, and somewhat contradictorily, Celia used to state that she did not care for materialistic possessions. What with the security of her parent’s vast wealth, one could imagine how this ideology had developed. Sometimes Celia would wonder that perhaps she was the biggest hypocrite of them all, seeking nothing purely based on the knowledge that with one swift phone call to daddy Dineley, she could have everything. She simply sought not to seek, and regularly confused herself as to whether she was just as bad as her sister Jen who sported a new pair of Jimmy Choo’s daily. She feared that perhaps she wore her, almost as carefully considered, cute bell bottom trousers, not only due to necessity and comfortable stretching abilities, but also as a reactionary to those heinous pieces of patent leather and plastic that graced her sibling’s feet. But, no what absurdities!  Of course Celia wasn’t that shallow. She truly cared about the slave labour children in Taiwan and the oil in leaks in... well, oil leaks in general. No, she may be seen to be well below her family members in the familial hierarchy, but she liked to think she stole the moral high ground.  Unfortunately, being ethically conscious did not often work in her favour and when funds dispersed once more (mainly to ‘save the seals’ and other dainty animal charities) Celia would have to reiterate her priorities and trail back to the family nest with her tail between her legs. Needless to say, the Dineley household grew wary of this charade and persuaded Celia to take up their offer of buying her a house of her own, under the illusion that living in the 17^th century, grade two listed property, would save it from being demolished and subsequently developed into private penthouse apartments. The very thought made Celia shudder and, if it meant saving a beautiful piece of history, then she darn well would buy it! Plus the alternative lifestyle was becoming a little tedious to her, even though she was rather proud this fad had lasted longer than the others that preceded it, she was more than content with living in an under-floor heated, luxurious fortress.