Solace & Comfort

by Nannette Eaton on April 12, 2011


Unexpectedly (was it expectedly, as it occurred so often as to be routine) she needed to stay late at the office, suffering the tyranny-of-the-day-job so often it became routine, but still irritating and demeaning. But, in this economy, it was a job, employment, a means of support, such as it was. She should be grateful. She should be grateful for any work at all. But she wasn’t. She was resentful. And bitter. Not particularly angry or postal. But clearly bitter. And tired. So incredibly tired of work. Of life.  Of other people. Of their needs. Desires. Wants. Deadlines. What about me? When does my life begin? Or end? She sighed mightily. She picked up the phone and cancelled her dinner plans. Again. The social life was taking a heavy beating against the work life. She dismissed these thoughts and concentrated on the task at hand. The mind-numbing task at hand. Much, much later, finally the work was completed. A reprieve from monotony.

She left the building, heading home. It was a dark and stormy night. And there was no refuge from the storm. It was rainy, wet, windy and blustery, and she had forgotten an umbrella. There were no cabs on the horizon. Hoofing it to the bus stop, she caught her heel on a storm grate, stumbled, twisted her ankle and broke the heel of her very fashionable, very delicate and very over-priced stiletto. Limping up the bus steps, she realizes she doesn’t have correct change. Looking up hopefully to the fellow passengers for assistance, and is met with blank stares. She shoves the bill into the fare-box, grossly overpaying, and shuffles to a vacant seat, the public transport lurches slowly away from the curb into bleak evening.

Finally reaching safe haven from the storm, she changes out of her drenched clothing and towels off her dripping wet hair. Lighting a few candles, she pours the amber liquid into the snifter, and curls up on the sofa. She swirls, sniffs and quaffs. And sighs contentedly. With a Mona Lisa smile. The golden elixir is solace and comfort in a glass. In a challenging and changing world, Cognac, you never let me down.

cognac image courtesy of Sami Keinänen

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{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

Beth April 12, 2011 at 8:46 am

Love, love, love. I feel this way most days.

Ginny April 14, 2011 at 1:39 pm

Ditto!

The Wine Harlot April 16, 2011 at 8:17 am

Not to advocate drinking….
(Wait. That’s the sole purpose of the existence of The Harlot. Never mind.)

Not to advocate drinking, but some days having a glass of amber liquid is what it takes.

The Wine Harlot April 16, 2011 at 8:20 am

We’ve got our fingers crossed!
Pick us! Pick us!

The Wine Harlot April 16, 2011 at 8:21 am

Right back at you sister!

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