The Queen leaned towards a grandchild and expressed a question. Will they explain?
The youth had prepared some artistic reflections on how the world was seeming.
"She cares." A child said loudly to a wall of grownups who didn't seem to be paying attention since, first, we needed to overcome shyness.
"Everyone. Get out of bathing suits and changed into dinner clothes." Some of the pre-teens groaned. In a Lawn Party, casual clothes, there'd been a relaxed mood, a release of tensions, even a more general just people having fun. But Eppstein and his foolish friends were en route.
Now. A young mother sternly told the oldest children.
"Because, it's not a kingdom. More of a, a," the pager in pocket vibrated. "Our White House Lawn is more of a Commonwealth!" A peppy teenager face full of braces assured.
"What did they do to these shoes?" A black man's bloody hand had shaken from it into a medical bowl, the carbon blade.
"It's illegal." The man said as a basement orderly shoved a needle into his buttock.
The crush of people on the Lawn started to back into the window of the sitting room. One kid was turning purple. "Control it," came the mom order. "First of all it's not anger," the kid who habitually listed all factors of strategy-needed before action rose above drowning in panic as he meted out the reasoning of what's happening.
Men of all age groups in suits and polos popped into the room asking "guests" and "vistors" to get serious. "Well, who is he?"
"Well, you've heard of the most interesting man in the world, right?"
"That's who El Epp is?"
"God no."
"None of us have
"Presumably
"Well, Epp's Epp."
"Like Liverachi?"
"Whose kids are these?"
"Not really a musician, no. Though always around. More like"
Everyone was looking at the head-full-of-curls librarian. "Like the Most Popular guy." People absorbed the information. "On the block. Yeah, like the most popular guy on the block. Which enfuriates the other guys."
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