Sunday, 11 March 2018

Abstraction is the new restless

Some years from now on, she will pour out her 15 years old Rosé that she had stored in an old book cabinet, in sparkling champagne glass with golden rim. She will sit down with her laptop and open the scene with the most exquisite lines. She will play that scene in her mind almost for the thousandth time and finally settle down attending their most intricate details.

In the quiet of the night she will almost hear her heart thumping loud polluted with his snores. For once, she will inhale deeply and release a sigh with her utmost conscious and continue crafting her delicate sentences transcending into something with an untouched celestial realism.

How did she get this far with her plot?
How is she struck on this man for eternity?

She will question herself and guzzle down the resting Rosè from the glass at once. For this acute regret her usual Rosè will not cut off the dissatisfaction. She will want something more, something heartfelt yet abstract; perhaps Scotch. She will look at the aesthetically beautiful yet sparkling glass and the dregs of the pale rosy liquid will remind her of life. Everything that once was... but is now consumed.