Ethan Goodend, the proud father, stood outside their humble two-storied apartment receiving well-wishes and many presents on behalf of his wife. Observing and sensing the nonchalance and emptiness in their regards, he quickly withdrew, on the pretext of a throat infection (an extremely convenient excuse to depart from large human gatherings), back into his home. The door slammed shut. He slumped into the nearest chair, took of his glasses, and took a deep breath. As his hot stale breath exited his parched lips, he felt a sudden rush of blood to his brain as he heard the faint audible evidences of the excitement outside fade into the normal bustle of life.
'Ethan, is that you?' a voice called from the second storey.
Hurrying up the stairs, he went straight to his wife's bedside and sat gently on the space that he woke up to everyday. Anne must have been half asleep, he mused judging from her eyelids struggling to keep watch of the twins sleeping soundly at the edge of the room. He smiled and gently stroked her head. Turning his gaze to the twins, he saw a stack of bills lying beside the bedside mirror.
Mr and Mrs Ethan Goodend
cordially invites you to partake in their joy of
the birth of their twins Romulus and Remus.
16/7/1898
7 in the Evening
The Goodends would spare no expense to ensure the grand debut of their offspring to society. Descendants of mayors and clergymen, they were well-respected and revered in society. Besides, Ethan was looking forward to meeting his old friend again: Mr Amadeus Kelly.
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