Finally she was alone – resting. I had been watching her graceful dance; the magic of her presence energized the melodies.
Despite fears I had to act.
I grabbed two glasses of Champagne; approached her slowly.
But I tripped: plunged in front of her; my shattered dignity spilled like crystal shards among the dancing feet.
As years have passed, we have made a deal:
“Do you want a glass, my dear”, she whispers in my ear.
We laugh, recalling how my dignity can mend by understanding. I take her hand:
“Later — we should dance at our daughter’s wedding”
So my muse went the romantic way today. Sometimes we are concerned with dignity too much. Maybe being human with all our flaws is what build real love (and a laugh probably helps as well).
Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers that produce 100 word fiction every week to the same image. Perfectly conducted by Rochelle Wissoff-Fields we each strive to capture engaging narratives with the limitation of 100 words. Personally I always try to hit the word-count exactly. Last week I tried to read and comment on every story, but I cannot guarantee that I will manage this week.
March 25, 2015