|Copyright - Janet Webb|
Celia emerged from the bedroom in her favorite flannel pajamas and her bears’-feet slippers. Lowering the lighting, she flipped on some soft jazz on her way to the kitchenette. Taking down a glass she filled it near overflowing with the ruby goodness of her homemade sangria.
What a delicious alternative it was to Stephen. He had been acerbic, hot-tempered and strident. He had also once been her lover and fiancé. While she might never have his love, companionship or respect, she did have the solace of sweet red wine to make his memory a distant and indistinct thing at best.
This story was written for the weekly Friday Fictioneers flash fiction photo prompt.