Pause for Reflection

The image she kept of herself: sophisticated
elegance, hair swept in perfumed grace, nails
groomed pink clinking against the drink glass,
ice winking from clear blue eyes.

Who she was: the drunk in dirty overalls,
flirty beauty long gone, slurring stories long on
lies, interrupting herself with "Excuse me,"
before puking inside her garment bib.


Written (with gratitude for we women who have attained sobriety) for two writing prompts:

1) Photo Challenge #68, Pause at MindLoveMisery's Menagerie.
Note: Image by wallpaperswide.com

2) 55 words for Flash 55 Plus at imaginary garden with real toads

Flash 55 — Boon's

 

There is power of place here,
Solid as mortared brick -
Ethereal as finespun memories.

I sip Earl Grey tea
On a waning winter day,
Remembering dark ale drunk
In the sunshine of youth at
That table, and that one by the
Pot-bellied stove.

Decades slipped away …
And his eyes are still the bluest blue.

_________

My post written in exactly 55 words for Flash 55, now hosted by the lovelies over at imaginary garden with read toads.
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