lazybones (part one)

Heavy hands weighed me down. The empty bottle I grasped seemed almost full. The air that blew in was cool, moist, bitter. My house was pandemonium. People and friends cluttered in hallways, in little knooks, in bathrooms and corners. I was throwing a party. A going away party for my best friend, Fred, who was leaving for France the next morning. While Fred busily schmoozed with old pals, whom everyone was always slightly acquainted with--never friends, always pals--I was standing, lonely, by the open window, embracing the breeze and tightly gripping an old gin bottle. I dug into my dress's pocket for a pack of cigarettes, for licorice or gum, anything to prop my unused hand and unopened mouth. No luck. No mouth prop. So, I continued to glance out the window and wait. Wait for someone to realize who I was, Daffodil Bowers, theologian, educator, novelist, actress. Failed theologian, educator, novelist, actress.
"Need a light, baby?" Fred stood gently behind me, holding an unlit cigarette. 
"Why yes, dear. That'd be lovely." I said to him, widening my mouth to a smile, holding out my vacant hand. 
 "Tomorrow, it's all gonna be gone. You’ll still need lights and I’ll be lost, wandering the streets of Paris, searching for a dead cigarette to birth." he said, looking out, over the massive landscape of bodies in my living room.
"I’m gonna miss you so much, Fred." a tear was beginning to fall from my green, sullen eye, and I wiped it away, ever so quickly.
 "Tonight is our night," he said, holding up a glass of gin and lime. "let's kiss 1947 on the lips and wish it the most glorious farewell!"

"But my dearest Fred, it is the middle of July. 1947 is in its prime. It's not time to say goodbye." I whispered in Fred's ear, taking a small drag of tobacco.
"Well, Daf, I suppose you're right about that. It will be gone soon enough."

The doorbell rang. Someone in a blue coat answered it. A cluster of well dressed men and girls entered. Fred went to greet the new arrivals and left me, in the company of the window, with a lit cigarette and an empty bottle of gin.