Agatha’s eyes sparkled with a reminiscent gleam as she sipped her tea. “It was the best of times.”
“No, no no, Agatha dear. It was the worst of times.” Agnes sat at the table and eyed the plate of pastries. “I do remember it being the worst of times.”
“That may be, Agnes, but it was also the age of wisdom.”
“Oh, hardly that. It was the age of foolishness. Why! Anyone worth a half cent of Sen-Sen would remember that.” Raspberry pastries. Poppyseed pastries. Almond crème pastries.
“Oh, do stop interrupting me, Agnes. It was the epoch of belief.”
“Tsk. I know you told me not to interrupt, but I’m afraid I simply must. It was not the epoch of belief, my dear. It was the epoch of incredulity. No one believed in anything. Not one darn thing. Why, they barely even believed that the sky was blue.” The pastries were so tempting, but Agnes knew she really shouldn’t have one. “If you remember.”
“I do remember. I simply remember it differently from you. It was the season of LIGHT!”
“No. That was the year we had that horrible power outage. Don’t you remember that? We went through so many candles and matches. It still fills me with dread. So, I would not call it the season of light at all. It was the season of Darkness.”
“It was the spring of hope.”
“No, it was the winter of despair.”
“We had EVERYTHING before us.”
“How can you say that, Agatha? We had NOTHING before us or behind us for that matter. That was the year the tornado came through.” Agnes really needed to cut back on the sweets and she knew it. “Surely you remember that?”
“We were all going directly to Heaven.”
Agnes laughed. “Oh, my dear. I could have sworn that society was inclined to…mm. Go the other way as directly as possible.” But pastries were more bread than sweet. So, did they even count?
“Well. I give up.” Agatha took another sip of her tea. “You clearly don’t remember it the same as I do.”
Agnes claimed a plump almond crème pastry and took a bite. “Quite clearly you don’t.”