Alone. Fragile. Vulnerable. Standing on the brink of my demise, questions bubble up within my emptiness. Will I rest in junkyard dirt- eternally comfortable? Or *gulp* must I return to the depths of fiery hell in Richmond's Recycling plant? I don't like heat!
I've heard that the souls of a million Budweiser bottles pour long into the night- searching for new pieces of glass to infiltrate and make them whole. And let me just add here, I'm not your ordinary piece of glass! Behind my shapely, crystal exterior, I have feelings.
What really frosts my stem is how you used me and then disappeared into another room. I was good enough to cradle your $3 bottle of Boone's Farm...I nearly gagged as you happily threw back the toast to your new baby. But because I love you, I didn't crack...not even a chip!
I've celebrated with you since your high society mother-in-law found you deserving of my $36 price tag. I willingly lowered my standards to accommodate your tastes: Narragansett Super Bowls....Tap water hangovers...Schlitz barbecues.All the while just happy to be caressed by your lips. A few brief moments when time stood still and I tingled from rim to base. Those sensations are a mere memory now. I feel so used!
Will you miss me when I shatter against your beer stained linoleum? Will tears sprinkle upon my dust as you sweep away my jagged fragments? I'll take your finger prints with me for all eternity- what will you hold onto?
I never demanded much. A bath now and then. Set the heat dry to keep me shiny and spotless. Jet dry costs less than some of the chablis you brought home for birthdays. Yes, I was a low maintenance friend. Perhaps, too low.
Now, here I stand, used and abandoned, my pride diminished to that of a mere Dixie cup. Little fingers are exploring my rim. Unnoticed by you, they continue to roam. My stem slips and I am forced to go with the flow.
Help! I am tumbling in the air!
"Angie! Look out!"
I can see you running to save me. I know your rescue will be too late, but your effort answers what I've wondered all along-- You really do love me. *SMASH !!*
Sorry, Wrong Number (A Texting Story)
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