The Little Ecstasy Girl
Christmas Eve: nobody was buying; the crowd was high on holiday happiness and the bouncers were on to her.
She shivered on the steps, not a single pill sold. Just one, then she’d dare to go home. She felt warmer almost immediately. She looked up – velvet and diamonds. One more and the stars began to sing, the purest most beautiful sound she had ever heard. She lifted her arms and swam towards the light, her whole being vibrating with their brilliance.
Christmas morning: the husk of a girl lay curled on the steps, frozen fingers clutching an empty bag.
M J Lewis ©2016
With thanks to our own shining star at Friday Fiction, Rochelle and to Amy Reese for the photo prompt. Thanks as well to a certain Hans Christian Andersen. (Have never had a Danish visitor – that would be nice!) To visit a constellation of stories click here.