by kdillmanjones


“Merlot, Pinot, Malbec.”

“You have to pick one, you know.”

These were words I couldn’t hear. This was a place I couldn’t be. The mirror distorted; her face contorted. The holy icon turned to rainbow sherbet. I wondered if it came in raspberry.


The lampshade was raspberry.

“I lost him.”


“Raspberry. Raspberry was his favorite.”

I saw it now. It wasn’t that the world around me was fragmenting. It was just me crumbling.

I sat in the booth with my Merlot-Pinot-Malbec, and waited for my salvation to walk through the door.



* Author’s note: This story is part of the 100-word writing challenge Friday Fictioneers. Photo: Ted Strutz.



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