“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.