She lit up the cigarette. As if it was the first of her lifetime. The way her hands shook told the same story. Moments like these seem to always be the ones when the matches don’t light or the lighter seem to run out of gas. But we do try. Oh we must!
**strike** **thud**
“Excuse me” a voice calls out. She turns around and as if awake from a hypnotic stance, a dimly lit bar slowly reveals itself around her. As if she was backstage inside a theater when a group of stage artists swiftly changed the set around her while a minstrel hummed a solemn tune. But she hasn’t been here before. Has she? The smell of heartaches spilt in wine. The air of victory meshed in ashes. The delights of births and marriages or the grievances for lives lost. These four walls have seen it all.
She got up to leave.
“Excuse me” the voice called out. "Where is the owner goddammit?"
She turns around only to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. My oh my! She looked ready and dressed for an occasion. If only she could remember what it was? She sees the wine glass she had been drinking from. It is hers. Why? Because no one else can afford such a priceless rare lipstick and the stain it had left on the tip looked glorious. As if no bartender should ever cater to it. Leave it be for others to marvel at the galore. No one should wash it off. It looked perfect just the way it is. Next to the packet of her favorite - Esse Lights. If only she could smoke one.
“Excuse me miss!”
**action**
She finally sees her surroundings. The typical “round every corner” bar generally crowded with hordes of men but empty most of the times. Some here to bask in the glory of their own delight. Some to sulk. Some to just let off steam. We tend to get tired of our own kind. Solitude is bliss!! But it always ends up looking better on writings only as we have this need to connect on some level to at least someone. Some were there to pickup ladies way out of their leagues with liquors clouding their judgement. “Meh!! What are leagues anyways? People deserve each other. Nothing more nothing less.”
“Excuse me miss!”
She turns around. “May I say you look lovely tonight? This hair color suits you even more”.
“What do you mean?”
“Umm. Weren’t you here last month as well? You had brown hair? And you always seem to carry that pack of Esse lights and order two glasses of Chardonay? But I have never seen you smoke”
“Have you been stalking me or something? I am pretty sure I am here for the first time” she replied as she took a sip of her wine and managed to catch a glimpse of her pink hair.
"Can I have your number?"
She put her glass down and looked at this fella. Black well combed hair. Grey eyes. And that lovely dimple on his chin. Who does he remind her of?
"Meet me outside in five minutes" she replied. Thinking to herself what kind of a guy is alone in this bar without any friends at this ungodly hour? But then again wasn't she doing the same? Oh here I go preaching to myself again. I know I should not be judgmental. What is this need we have to prove our-self as better than others?
She looked around. The guy was gone. She got up to leave. The door creaked behind her and she was in a unpleasant part of town.
Black combed hair. Grey eyes. Dimple. He stood right there looking at her. Who did he remind her of?
"Five minutes wasn't it?"
She smirked. "Lets take a walk"
"Tell me about you. What is your name lady?"
"My husband likes to call me..."
"Your husband?" asked the guy. Taken aback.
"See. You did not care for my name. So what's the point anyway?" She continued to walk.
He trotted along but the silence seemed comfortable yet deafening at the same time.
"Would you care for a smoke?" She asked.
How could anyone deny her request. "Yes" he replies.
She offers him a cigarette and a box of matches.
**strike**
The matches light up. She smiles and says "I never seem to get them to light up. Lucky you"
He takes a long drag. That relieving sensation. Cyanide always seemed to do the trick. As he collapsed in the corner, she moved along with a lost look. Who did he remind her of?
**action**
She reached her home. She took a cigarette out. Esse Lights. Just as she always liked it. She tried to light the matches.
**strike**
She brushed off her grin which gave its way to a smile. She wiped off her makeup and smeared her lipstick. She took off her wig. She took off her earrings. She took off her necklace. This was the first of many nights gone and was definitely not the last. He finally slept as if for the first time. He can lay finally in peace. Right next to the picture of his lovely wife with the rare lipstick on. He needs to clean and open up the bar early in the morning as well. He loved it when the matches lit up. He loved her dearly but not when she smoked her Esse Lights.
Poor guy!
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