CLARA'S POVAs usual, the Preston Hotel was a cocoon of serene ambiance.The piano was playing in what I supposed was a pianissimo with a very rich crescendo effect; it reminded you of Clair de Lune.It was a place for the highest class, the one percentile of the economy. A place suitable for mummy, and because it was suitable for her, it was for me.Even though truly I preferred a more upbeat venue than a classical inn.The hotel restaurant was around the back of the lobby; mummy always decided on the menu; it was always some form of lean white meat and very pricey wine; it got monotonous sometimes.That was mum.Change scared her, she’d rather live a life of routine than change her coffee order.She gets the same butterfly bob cut, never adds color to her hair, goes to the same spa, and the same nail polish. Mummy was stagnant. She didn’t like change; she even disliked the fact that nature forced her to change, the new smile lines and wrinkles. She’d had Botox done twice, and tha
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