Personal / Stories and pebbles

Stars and warm schampagne

  • It was already dark when we met, and as I was crossing the road and walking towards her, she yelled at me a bit from excitement, like all girl friends do for some reason before they go out dancing.
  • We walked to a nearby secluded park with some roman columns in it from the time so far ago, it was unimaginable to us. Our high heels made such terrific clicks on the sidewalk.
  • The bench was wet from the morning rain, so we tore apart a paper gift bag we brought the alcohol in and sat on it, each on her own brown, ripped half, that seemed and meant so much in that moment.
  • We drank the sweetest french schampagne from plastic cups and with plastic straws (to not ruin our lipstick). The schampagne was warm but we didn’t really care, because we were sitting on fine paper bags and out lipstick was safe from smearing, we were young and the night promised so much. The stars were our only light as we danced right there, on the wet leaves that didn’t get the chance to rot yet.

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