Intoxicated Induced Memories

She sits in the corner, bottle in hand. Her eyes trace the converstation flow around her. Political satire and personal jibs fly across the room, mixed with smiles and winces. She replaces the empty bottle in her hand and the room starts to rock. Things slow down and her synapses have to be forced to work. The chair feels like its swallowing her body as her mind sinks deeper into a fog of serenity. The music seems to flow through her veins, carried by the cold alcohol. Obscure faces and faded memories float in front of her eyes. Its nights like these that antique emotions emerge. The room blurs around her as music and old images fill her being. Forgotten scenes and bittersweet moments swirl in her vision.
And across the room he watches her slip away.