The Bottle

It all began when she decanted the bottle
The sweet aroma filled her nose
As she poured herself a glass
Tiny bubbles sparkling as they danced about

The saccharine taste of fruit filled her mouth
Tantalizing her taste buds
As she drank in the sinful liquid
Welcoming the numbness that followed

Her skin warmed, tingling with every sip
Another glass and her thoughts became hazy
All inhibitions melted away
She dialed a number she should have forgotten

The midnight night sky was black as onyx
The phone rang endlessly
Until a distant voice finally whispered hello
No words escaped her lips, she was frozen

She hung up the phone, mortified
In disbelief at her drunken actions
She staggered down the hall to her bedroom
Suddenly wishing she could put the cork back