“Catherine don’t just stand there like a dead duck”
“….but aunty?”
“I would have you know in my days I was flawless , none of this sweating and shaking.”
The door to our left opens and with a quick push she sends me on my shaky feet through the open doors.
The orchestra switches to a low song on my third step in, and the crowd sweeps back.
All eyes on me.
One, two, three….my sweaty foot slips deeper into my kitten heels. Four, five, six…..in the center hangs the chandelier that has seen generations of debutantes, with its splendor of little lights.
Seven,…my ankle gives way and the floor rushes into view I could see the chandelier as it winked at my grand tumble head first into adulthood.
Inspired by Friday Fictioneers 23 SEPTEMBER 2016
Image Credit – Roger Bultot
The Mind Junkyard 