Prompts = Forty-five, Blue, Gracious
I was feeling lost, depressed, forgotten. What should’ve been a day filled with family, friends, and celebration (you only turn 45 once, after all), was nothing of the sort; for a complicated set of reasons, I was alone. Colour me blue. Midnight blue.
The bartender read my mood; she kept the shots flowing, got me talking, was an angel. Although I’d determined to drink myself blind, she saw the point when I was inertial drinking: drinking because I wasn’t stopping (but wanting to). That’s when she ordered the cab and graciously walked me out.
I think I’m in love.
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