This post is in response to the Friday fictioneer challenge.
She accepted the sangria glass twirling it slowly between her fingers. The fruits spun causing ripples in the wine based liquid. She sniffed the cinnamon scent and closed her eyes, reliving those last days in Portugal – that artist – the laughter- love- sadness of a trip home to reality.
Curiousity and a heady schoolgirl like crush drew her today to the exhibit in her home town. She’d imagined this day, rehearsing conversations. She wasn’t foolish enough to imagine fairy tales come true. Her face looked back at her from a painting titled “Cinderella”. She knew there’d be no slipper left behind this time.