Close encounters of the slurred kind

#Writeclub

The fluted cocktail glass

took a fateful tumble on the bar floor

after third refill of that cocktail

everyone told her not to have

The luminosity of the puddle

led to some strange things “Blowing her mind”

her mates watched on

as she performed the fandango with a streetlight called Bill

Her pals got her home eventually

navigating her stillettos

over craftily curved cobbles

and limestone slabs

Sobering up, made her ponder

how her silver coins had changed

into salty cashew nuts

propped up by the garden gate

singing along to the cats chorus