>Drabble: Thirty

>Soot from the dying bonfire drifted past, carried by the last breaths of the windy spring day. Billy sat barefoot in the grass, gazing out across the pond, waiting for the promised private afterparty.

The birthday girl appeared in front him, late as usual, still just as beautiful at thirty as she’d been at eighteen. She straddled Billy ‘s lap, mouth reddened with dye from the fruit punch she’d been drinking. The color made Billy crave a taste.

They kissed, and Billy ‘s eyes fluttered shut as he felt time freeze again, as it always did when he lost himself in Anna.

Comments are closed.