Agnes in Manhattan

Agnes emerged from her townhouse at five minutes past nine.  It was a sunny, crisp autumn morning.  Chill but not cold, the thirty-eight degree temperature was perfect leather weather and couldn’t suit Agnes better!  Her heels clicked down the steps from her front door.  Her iron gate swung wide open before her and clanged shut after she swept past.

Agnes dismissed Madeline for the rest of the day and instructed her only to have a pot of tea and a warm bath waiting tomorrow morning.  Agnes had no need for a companion today.  Madeline kept the house and served her well, but she tended to be a bit priggish.  Agnes meant to follow naught but her own whimsy way today.  She needed no conscience to remind her of what was proper

She was quite familiar enough with the city to find her own way about easily.  Her boots were comfortable and she was going to put some distance on them today.  Her townhouse was only four blocks west of Broadway and that was where she headed.  Her pace quickened with anticipation of the day ahead.  Who could say what escapades awaited her?  

There were relatively few pedestrians on her street at this time of the morning since it was a residential block.  She greeted the occasional passer-by with a cheerful “Good morning!”  

She waved at a cab driver who honked his approval at the pretty lady.  A billboard reminded her of Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” and the tune stuck in her head as she went.

Metropolitan world-traveler though she was, Agnes was always invigorated by the excitement of New York City.  The huge, loud, extravagant energy of the city represented everything that was American to her old-world mind.  Even if much of the culture clashed with her genteel English sensibilities as uncouth, garish, and even offensive, she genuinely enjoyed reveling in the sheer squalor of it from time to time. 

When she reached the corner of Times Square she paused for a moment to take it in.  Her leather coat creaked tightly as her bosom inflated with a deep breath.  She spread her arms out as if to embrace the monumental splendor of unbridled capitalism soaring to the heavens.  The fluorescent grandeur of it all danced before her eyes and permeated her.  Fine dining and tiptop entertainment were at her fingertips!  She tingled at the prospect of it all.

She smiled to herself.  It never failed to amuse her that she would visit a place known so well for marking the passage of time.  That silly ball was never going to drop for her after all!  She loved New York City itself because it was the font of all things fresh and new.  It was a place forever young just like her.

  

She slipped her hands into her coat pockets and walked south along Broadway.  She had almost forgotten how busy it always was.  Even the streets of London and Paris were never this crowded.

Countless throngs of people stood at each street corner waiting to cross.  They clashed like two armies meeting head-on as they rushed from this side to that.  Then the lights would change and endless traffic clogged the streets once more.  People yelled obscenities and horns honked for miles.

Vendors offered her disgusting-smelling food.  Impertinent street peddlers tried to sell her cheap purses that they displayed from rubbish bags.  The most mean and vulgar dregs of humanity shuffled and limped and blundered beside her, deluded with the American belief that they were all equals.  Like peasants, they were truly beneath her dignity to even acknowledge.  She glided through them untouched like a regal swan in a lake full of ducks.

For some reason she truly enjoyed venturing out among the common people.  It even gave her pleasure to associate with them when she became bored.  Presently it had been several months since she had experienced anything more droll than a Viennese opera or a hot nightclub in Amsterdam.

Perhaps the masses intrigued her because she had once been “common” herself long, long ago.  The memory was so distant that it was less of a recollection than something she simply knew to be true about her past.

Of course, there had been nothing common about Agnes in quite some ages.  Even among the thousands of anonymous, faceless people that surrounded her now, she was quite extraordinary.  She was a tall, elegant silhouette in sleek black leather.

A posh wide-brimmed hat made of glossy black leather was cocked at a jaunty angle on her brow.  Her head and neck were wrapped entirely in a scarf of shimmering ebony silk traced with gold thread.  Not a single strand of her blond hair could be seen.  Only the pale oval of her face remained exposed.  The ends of the scarf were tucked neatly inside the collar of her white blouse that stuck out stiff and tall about her throat. 

The collar of her leather coat was turned up around her neck.  The down-sloping edge of her hat overlapped the high-standing collar so that her face was clearly visible only from the front.  From a profile or from behind the collar of her coat and the broad hat purposely shielded her face from wind, rain, or unwanted view.

The pointed lapels of her coat tapered in acutely to fasten above her breasts.  The glistening second button of her blouse centered neatly within the notch between them.  Seven buttons sealed her coat in a long glittering row down the front.  Each button puckered the soft leather into shiny, shifting ripples that extended outward to her prominent curves.

Her plush coat was quite warm and yet finely tailored to flatter her hourglass figure.  The leather molded in gleaming smoothness over the roundness of her breasts and hips.  The back belt gathered the waist inward and caused the leather to crease this way and that about her torso.

Endless panels of liquid lambskin flowed around her long legs.  The rear gusset was so generous that she could stride easily with the walking vent completely buttoned.

Her shiny leather boots flashed in and out beneath the hem of her coat.  Her step bounced with the confidence of a runway model and she clicked her heels loudly.  Her hands were snug in their leather gloves, but she kept them buried deep in her cashmere lined coat pockets as she set out along the city sidewalks.

A blouse, skirt, and leather coat; this was Agnes’ signature look.  She had worn some variation of this outfit almost daily for many years.  She had strolled along the city streets of Stockholm, Casablanca, and Istanbul dressed in the same timeless apparel.

The simplicity of it appealed to her greatly.  In years past, fashion had dictated that Agnes be trussed up in clothes that were intolerably restrictive, pinching, and bothersome.  Her modern clothes were extremely comfortable, providing her luxurious warmth while showcasing her beauty with effortless refinement.

At a glance, she was a svelte feminine figure sculpted entirely of shiny black leather.  Even the pristine white collar of her blouse melded within the bright highlights reflected from her lustrous leather coat.

Shaded under the brim of her hat, Agnes’ alabaster face glowed within its dark leather frame.  It was the only bit of her skin exposed to the chilly air and her cheeks blushed a faint rosy pink.  The vivid color of her big blue eyes and luscious red lips contrasted boldly with her otherwise monochrome exterior.  Her perfect features were so striking that she stunned any who had the good fortune to look upon them.

The heads of men and women alike turned as she passed by.  Many admired her as ultra-chic and stylish.  Some assumed that she must be a model wrapped in haute couture leather.  Others viewed her head-to-toe leather ensemble as eccentric, peculiar or simply a bit too much.  Regardless, anyone who laid eyes upon her found her remarkable in some fashion.

Within the span of six city blocks, twelve men were so dumbstruck by the sight of her that they forgot what they were saying on their cell phones.  One businessman missed the cab he had already hailed as he stood transfixed by her.  Four men were smacked by their significant others for gaping at her too long.

A ten-year-old boy decided that Agnes must an evil sorceress because of her hat and her shiny black coat with the pointed collar standing so tall about her neck.  Looking at her caused a magical swelling in his pants that he had never experienced before and it felt really good.

A pair of teenage girls chattered excitedly how she looked like Trinity from The Matrix, except way cooler.  Agnes immediately struck one movie fan as a slinky Bond Girl, super-sleek and covert.  Her hat and coat reminded a young woman of the character Carmen Sandiego.

Seemingly oblivious to the reactions she aroused, Agnes gazed past the sea of faces and peered into the windows of the buildings she passed by.  The fresh curiosity of her wide-eyes and parted lips completely belied the ultra-sophisticated woman she obviously was.

Agnes had no particular agenda today.  There was plenty of time for shopping later in the week.  Her only goal today was to take some cool autumn air and indulge in whatever venture tickled her fancy.