Wednesday, October 7, 2009

WPW: Fuchsia Feather

See Ali's blog for rules.

I have no idea, but there has to be a good story to go with this....

The woman with the teal blue hat tottered into the cafe on bright red stilettos. The black band around the wide brim held a fuchsia feather that bobbed in time to her unsteady steps. The air around her thick with the smell of espresso and tapas, now blending with Chanel No. 22.

All eyes watched as she made her way to the counter. Eyes in young faces. Young faces with single chins and slender, healthy bodies. Most wearing jeans and t-shirts. A few with funky tie-dye skirts and gauzy blouses.

She reached into the banana yellow handbag and pulled out a ten. "A glass of chardonnay, please."

The counter man's sleek muscles rippled under the tight black shirt as he poured the wine. He glanced at the woman and poured a little more into the glass. "Six dollars, ma'am."

The ten slid across the counter, and the woman picked up the glass by the stem. "Keep the change." Another, shorter, expedition--seemingly in time with the jazz standard playing in the background--across the slick tile floor brought her to the table for two in the very back, very dark corner. The chartreuse dress strained as she sat, but she sighed with satisfaction to be off her feet for a time.

Anyone still watching saw her lift the glass in salute to the empty chair across from her before she took the first sip.