We were going to the club, we walked there every week. Our shoes were too tall and our skirts too short. We stumbled down the sidewalk holding onto each other for support. She fell down onto the grass. I crashed on the slight slope of the sidewalk a few steps later. Laughing we continued down the road. I took another tumble a few feet later. I brushed the gravel out of my knees. Drunkenness made us brave.
Dressed in the stylish fashion we showed our ID’s and got in to the packed club. We got an overpriced blue drink at the bar and headed to the dance floor. The beat was too loud to talk over. We strutted with confidence, and stumbled with style.
Strangers grabbed our wings while we danced. Someone groped my ass. I spun in my stupidly high heals and put my fists up ready to fight.
“Hey” I shouted, fire to fight in my soul. My body, my rules.
“By bad thought you were someone else.” He backed away, I assume sensing that I was not taking any shit, my bloody knee probably helped my bad ass intimidation. No one gets a bloody knee unless they’re ready to throw down.
Alcohol made me brave. He left with his gang of bros before I made it back to my friend.
Our flower crowns were wilting in the heat and humidity of the club. We laughed and danced the night away. We had very few problems with people dancing with us. We got cheers and gave cheers of our own.
At the end of the night we were tired and sweaty. We walked home stumbling until we took our shoes off. We leaned on each other disregarding the rocks that cut at our feet. Exhausted we took a short cut and laid down in a small patch of light.
All of our secrets were laid out before each other in that little spot of light. After we recovered enough to stumble the rest of the way home, we took care of our injuries, and feel asleep.
Fairy dust does not cure hangovers.