Gin and Tonic

Shards of shattered glass,

smatter the shiny wooden floor.

She is lazy to get the broom.

She doesn’t want to,

Why should she,

She rather finish her gin and tonic,

It waits on the other side of the couch.

On the other side of the mess.

She tiptoes through, she doesn’t want to get cut,

But a tiny shard, pricks her immaculately painted big toe

and a juicy red drop of blood spills forth,

on the floor,

Amongst the shards,

of glass.

She sighs.

It’s just a prick.

The G&T waits,

She ignores the blood and hobbles

on her heel ( toes up), to the sofa.

She sits.

She bends her knee and brings her toe to her mouth,

She sucks the trickle of blood.

Reaches over for her glass, for the sustenance that is her G&T.

The maid can get the shards of glass in the morning,

The butler can get her drunk ass and haul it upstairs later.

Outside, the day is hot.

Inside,

She sips.

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