If she had any energy, she would pull down the shade, but she had none. She tried to roll over&hellip, Trying to descend into the soft fluffy world of her bed, where her hangover would not exist. But it was no use. She heard the creaking of floorboards. The muttering of voices. The banging of the heater pipes. The scent of coffee brewing, giving her the only pleasure. But the reality of the smell, opened up her mind to the truth&hellip, She was awake. Her next thought was, Ow! Brenna tried to remember the details of the previous evening. Her cousins and best friends all had decided to take her to the bars. She remembered all of them flirting with guys and bartenders to get free drinks. Trying a drink called a Mojito for most of the night, instead of her usual Apple Martini, though she remembered having a few of those as well. Aunt Laura! Can I see if Brennas awake? came the shout from her twelve year old niece, Christy. Well, shes got to get up soon. The appointment is in two hours,. She pauses. The table is very attractive. There is the netted string tablecloth with its large floral patterns, the mirrored table top under it, the square placemats made of thin wooden slats, the cups and saucers and the glasses and silver. The colors of the flowers in the vase in the center are brilliant in the sun. They can only have been cut yesterday.What every breakfast setting craves this one has, a beautiful girl hovering by the table, clean and fresh and soft and exposed.She glances at the door and sighs. She sits, the cushion is pleasant on her bottom, the chair's back feels odd against her spine and shoulder blades so she sits straight for the moment. She slides her chair up to the table. The netted table cloth falls far over the side of the table spreading across her thighs. When she leans forward for her juice, she feels the table's edge with its netted roughness against her belly.She looks at her napkin where it lies on the table, smiles and does not bother with it. "No.
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