I had been invited, I was sure of it, but apparently you remembered neither this nor me. You waved me in to avoid a scene. My embarrassed face glowed bright red for ten minutes in that darkened party environment. I felt like the smiling crimson moon hanging from its string in the living room, every bit as idiotic, but everyone else smiling at each other in the high spirits of rum and coke seemed just as inane. I stood in a corner like a tall package dropped off and set aside as nobody’s. Occasionally someone would check the label, furrow their brow and walk on. Illegible! All I had done was follow your invitation.
– James Steerforth ( © 2008 )
A new addition to a short prose series I’m tentatively calling “sweet dreams and nightmares.” Posted for Sunday Scribblings’ Invitation theme.