The Bottle and The Rooftop
The red wine clung to the sides as she swirled it around in the beautiful tumbler and looked out over the city. White linen table cloths and napkins covered the chrome table that held one single candle. The sun was just starting to set on the horizon and the gold, red and violet hues reflected in the glass she held. Incredible smells wafted on the breeze and she could see the chef as he sautéed the spears of asparagus that would sit on the porcelain plate with the veal piccata. It was not her favorite meal, but she had ordered it and she would enjoy the flavors as they sat on her tongue to mingle with the dryness of the wine. The piccata and a good Pinot noir will always complement one another he had told her.
It had been the last one in her cellar and she removed it with care this morning and put in the wine carrier to bring with her. It was the very last bottle they had purchased together. He had laughed and teased her about purchasing a bottle simply because she liked the label, but it had turned out to be wonderful in spite of her naiveté. Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears as she silently toasted her late husband on what would have been their 40th anniversary.
The idea of Sunday Photo Fiction is to create a story / poem or something using around about 200 words with the photo as a guide. Our awesome host Al Forbes-Mixed Bag has one of these every week. If you would like to give it a go, please click on icon below and have fun!