I might get drunk tonight
on red wine and solitude
lost in the depths of a
full-bodied zin and the whir
of a palm-leaved fan.
Disappointment weighted
afternoon, damn fool who let
you in? Now I feel the scorched
earth aftermath while he eats a
well done steak.
A better woman might have
walked away, held her tongue,
but she does not live here.
I said my piece, now there’s
a consequence.
Pardon me, I’ll be in my room.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
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Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
Is it solitude when there’s wine?!? CHeers, hope you’re all right :-))
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I’m fine. A little dramatic, but nothing a little of the grape won’t cure. Thank you!
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Dramatic …more maybe ….cri de coeur… and chirping personal preference …a well done steak is not a steak done well…
and remember …the first 100 years are the toughest ..and how are my buddies da Patches and da Scout (?)
yours always in sippin’ whiskey simpatico
a cubs fan
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My cats showed amazing solidarity with me, eschewing the tantalizing smells emanating from the kitchen. Yes, the steaks were overcooked. Heh heh heh. I’d have taken them off the grill earlier if the men hadn’t been so awful to me. Asshats.
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