Full Moon

For the life of her she could not decide which playful personality was supposed to dominate this very important evening? Smoking a cigarette and trying on a pair after pair of shoes that were now occupying half of the tiny living room which was filled with the most glorious moonlight coming from the only window. Oh those full moons, always stirring up troubles, making people yearn for things that may not even exist, she thought. Standing in front of the mirror like a little girl wearing two different shoes, posing, turning a little from right to left to see which one was finally going to make the cut? The pretty one with a big red flower on the side that she always wore with a gypsy dress or the super slick needle skinny stiletto which made a beautiful sound when hitting the cold hard concrete? That clicking sound was so unique, so authentic especially when running down the stairs it always evoked a premonition of a night filled with dancing, champagne and careless laughs until the sky turned light purple and then pale blue. Stiletto won, and she disappeared into the bedroom to put on the dress. Exactly five minutes later the keys turned the lock and you could hear her running down the stairs, clicking away, the sound slowly disappearing into the night. I stuck my head out of the apartment and caught the passing breeze of intoxicating dream that was gone way too soon. Ah those full moons always stirring up emotions that can be hardly expressed….