Sweep The Blues Away

It was during the Great Depression when two young boys came to her door selling vacuum cleaners. Her husband was away on a business trip. In these tough times they were still quite fortunate to have the means, but she was so lonesome without him. This would be her first chance for human contact all week and it was already Friday.
She invited the boys in and offered them a Coca-Cola.

As they began to assemble the brushes on the newfangled model Hoover she returned with the cokes and a plate of cookies. She couldn't help but notice the distraught look upon their faces.

As ostentatious as the house appeared from the the outside, it was sparsely furnished and there wasn't a rug in sight. She quickly excused herself and came back carrying a small floor mat that they kept on the back stoop. It was quite muddy because of the recent rain. The boys caught a glimpse of her pocketbook peeking out from her apron pocket and knew they had made the sale.
Her husband returned that evening. She never mentioned the vacuum cleaner. Just as she never mentioned the other two she bought earlier that year. She was just so desperate for attention while he was gone. The closet underneath the stairs hid all her attempts of interaction. Among the vacuum cleaners was an array of Fuller brushes in every shape and size. Her husband was never privy.

Monday he would leave again and her lonesomeness would return.

Her only comfort was knowing the doorbell would ring again.

Maybe there would be a special broom that could sweep her blues away.

This she could only hope.