Carrie looked up from her computer. “Who said that?” she asked.
Her cousin shrugged. “Someone, you know, important.”
Carrie noticed Sarah staring out the window at a large spider web dripping with dew. “When spider webs look like that, it always reminds me of those flapper dresses with all the draping and beads.”
Sarah abruptly jumped up out her chair and walked into the kitchen. “More?” she said waiving her coffee cup.
“Walter Scott,” Carrie said, staring at her computer, and then looking up, “What? Oh, no. I’m good.”
“What about Walter Scott?” Sarah asked.
“He wrote an epic poem where that line appears.”
“You found that on Wikipedia or something?” Sarah asked sitting back down with her coffee and resuming her gaze out the window at the dreary, grey morning. Carrie didn’t reply.
“Holy crap. What a f’n rotten day to get married,” Sarah sighed.