The sun’s white light hit the side of the mixed-cut diamond.
Between the tweezers under the lamp, magnified against black cloth
it had gleamed like ice from a virgin glacier. I kept it a week
before reporting it was flawless and spectacular.
Among the teapots and crustless sandwiches, she rippled her nails and a
rainbow danced against her white dress
to the oooohs of another well-wisher. Her smile was full of champagne.
I hated her.