Madeleines de proust

hope you enjoy it!

 

I was trying to look good, trying to give myself a good image of myself. Like I had something to prove. On the outside people found me funny but that’s not what I wanted to hear. I was hurt in the inside from all the things going wrong in my life. So I pour myself a glass of champagne and as I look into my champagne glass, I am brought back to a childhood memory at Christmas. It was like the drink was telling me something. As time goes, beauty fades, friends become acquaintances but bad memories rarely get erased.

 

She was not the type of women you would imagine going to a drinking party till she escaped her problems however looks deceive. It was snowing outside; I could se the white rooftop and clear horizon. We all sat down as a family, at table with our crackers to our right and I was in front of my aunt. She had just gone out of rehab, which obviously I didn’t know, but I wish I had been told. She had a tendency to drink her problems but sadly for her they never left. It was her fourth marriage three sons one daughter from four husbands.  The dinner smelt of cinnamon and the sweet and spicy taste you get when you devour it.  

 

 She had the perfect life when you look at her from the outside but from within it’s crumbling slowly like the bread in her left hand. She picked up a glass of champagne a drink it like if it was apple juice. People moved around table-to-table chatting away. You could hear the adults laughing, the children yelling, or the children snoring on their mothers lap. But I was not yelling nor snoring, I was watching her sip away. We talked and talked; she went from angel to demon. The glass was harming her; they definitely were not being friendly. The champagne was hurting her but she continued. As her breath got stronger her personality was getting weaker.  The champagne was no more some festive drink you have at parties to me anymore, it was a bully trying attack you.

 

 

She smiled sober. She had love in her eyes, the love anyone would dye for. Her pale blue eyes look straight at mine and I could feel purity from within. The blue looked like the sky on a summer’s day. She was a drunken demon. There are many different types of drunk; there are those who act philosophical even though they are as deep as a garden pond, those who are so happy you know something is wrong, but those are no danger. The violent ones are, they can break you with two words and they even can even do it with no words, just with one look that says it all. The look attacks you just like the champagne. A look you would have never have done sober, but hurts twice as much than words.  It is worse than being told you’re worthless, it makes you feel like you don’t even need to be told. You’re worthless and you probably already know it.

 

She was not the pure women I used to know, she was the one who tried to prove she was perfect but failed so turned to her drink. That memory reminded me of the effects of that champagne so I didn’t drink it.

 

That woman thought me that the path to being perfect is impossible and not at all worth it. The drink put in her a demon that destroyed her social and love life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

feel free to comment improvements!

Reviews

[Shasha]

It's majestic. Sometimes small observations teach us something big. Your descriptive language is really effective. Loved it! But it should be "see" in the second paragraph you wrote " I could se " but it's very minor. So no one cares. And at last, I loved it. Keep writing!!!