Say Hello

You awaken, it could be any day, at any time. The clock reads one minute after midnight and that means, after some basic calculations, it’s your birthday. Sickening thought. Officially old. You don a jacket over your ankle length nightdress and pull on a hat. You do not stop in front of the hall mirror on the way out. The lock clacks shut behind.
You hide your key in a clot of threads of a banyan and carefully pick your steps on the crumbly path to the street.
There’s no plan oh you kid yourself. You’re ambling, occasionally shooting quips to strangers, revealing little, tossing out firecrackers seeing what pops. Your cool is so see-through to everyone but you. You find Sasha at a bar. You chat, you are so funny you instantly forget the plot.
Too soon it is 4 AM and the bartenders bar the doors with exhausted casts on their faces.
You don’t want to be alone again, not yet. You tag along to the after hours club. It’s as morbidly filthy as you’d expect. For no reason you allow a manly woman to kiss you on the mouth. Reflexively you pull back and then she squirmed her tongue into your mouth, and you gagged.
Sasha laughed at you and steered you to a cozy realm. It was comfortable to believe. Familiar ground although a mirage. Then came that moment when you were both standing too close.
You’re sexy, he said and kissed you. Alpha, confident. Your mind cracks from lightning, clarity piercing your ego.
I could be your grandmother, you say, embarrassed. You shove free.
I like you, he tries.
You’ve been a slice of birthday cake. Thank you, please walk me home.
Daylight slaps you in the face. You stroll with tremors of reality thrumming. At your gate you don’t want to send him away but you have to. Welcome to your mortality. Say hello.