Paul had drunk too much. The party had spilled out of the house into the garden, small groups sitting on the grass, music drifting through patio doors. He’d retreated into the shadows, leaning against a tree trunk. Somehow, the longer a party progressed the more alone and out of place he felt.
‘It must be nice …’
Paul startled.
‘to be a party person.’
The woman was further into the shadows.
‘I …’
‘Me too.’
They stood in silence for a few minutes.
‘Sarah.’
‘Paul.’
It was half-an-hour before Sarah said, ‘I …’
‘Yes.’
They crept out of the shadows.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
I like that 'kindred spirits' theme here, Rob. I'm not much for big parties, myself, so this story resonates with me. And the dialogue says a lot with just a few words. Well done
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