The Little Ecstasy Girl

 

amy-reese

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.

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19 thoughts on “The Little Ecstasy Girl

  1. That’s so sad, poor girl. Ate all her own product. It sounds from your story that going home without having sold any pills was not an option. I guess someone nasty was waiting there, a drug-dealing boyfriend perhaps.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Well spotted – definitely who/what is at home is vital to the story. Had to squeeze in into those 100 words!
      (It’s also there in the original Little Match Girl where it’s her father she’s afraid of.)

      Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you. I haven’t read Hans C. A. in a long time but his stories do stick in the mind.
      I’d been thinking about this story vaguely for a while, after reading about ecstasy pills in the UK being much much stronger nowadays than when they first hit the dance scene decades ago – very worrying. The picture brought it all together.

      Liked by 1 person

    • I sobbed over this story decades ago too. Fairy stories are interesting, working on all sorts of levels.
      On a lighter note I have been apologising to my Christmas tree, waiting in the front garden to be taken way and composted after the humiliation of being stripped of its finery. All down to Andersen’s Fir Tree.
      Thanks for your comments.

      Liked by 1 person

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