The Wine Glass

After the guys left the apartment was always a mess. The other girls would be too tired to stay up much later and only Marie would offer to clean up the next day anyway. Colleen just didn't mind living in the mess. Ann didn't like to clean anymore than anyone else, especially when it wasn't her mess. But she couldn't bear the thought of leaving it all for Marie. Most of it was just plates from dinner and glasses from drinks afterwards. Ann decided she would at least pick them up and load the dishwasher.

Marie has recently moved in and brought with her all her matching plates. But everyone still used Colleen's mismatched gallimaufry of glasses. They ranged from small plactic children's cups with cartoon characters on them, to collector's goblets from Burger King. to an incomplete set of lemonade glasses with wavy grips. And of course a few random wine glasses. Only six people--three guys and three girls--had been there that night to make the mess, but it looked like twice as many had dined there. Plates, cups, glasses and silverware were tucked into what seemed like every nook and cranny, on the coffee table, on the nightstand, behind the stack of books, between the couches, behind the lamp, under the piano bench, on the piano bench, beside the sofa bed, next to the rocking recliner, on the tv, the middle of the floor, and one wine glass had even managed to make it to the kitchen table. Ann picked up that one last. She knew who'd been drinking from it. Daniel had left it next to the half corked bottle of kianti. He'd said it was bitter for his taste, and had too high an alcoholic content. Ann had no real taste for any of it. She felt a little foolish holding the glass so gingerly, closing her eyes and smelling it. One tiny drop remained in the glass, not even a sip. The bottle was still 3/4 full. The ticking of the clock seemed to slow as she looked around her. Of course no one was there; the guys had gone home and Marie and Colleen were sound asleep by now. Still her heart raced. With a lazy smile she drank the last drop, tasting not the wine, but him. She held the wine glass against her chest. She was 22, but she didn't feel that old.