Flash Fiction: Ambiguous Vintage

Source: LJ Frank

by LJ Frank

We sat on the edge of a restaurant’s patio that overlooked the slopes of a vineyard.

“I’m glad our paths crossed today.” Elena’s dark blue eyes and lips were suggestive.

“I feel the same. Remarkable all things considered, given the textures of our spirits. You know, when I’m on the edge of a political tempest I soak up each minute of the remaining sunshine.”

“Interesting way of putting it.”

I nodded. “My days seems to evaporate like water into steam, I write, feel and taste.”

Elena winked, then stretched her long legs with leather high heel boots and wiped strands of black hair that had blown across her face. “My life is unsettled too.  My closest friends have revealed they were of the fair-weather variety and simultaneously I’ve found no common ground with my neighbors and relatives. Nothing seems to fit, so, I look elsewhere.”

“Ambiguity does make for an interesting life I suppose. My passport means little as the Canadian border is closed and no other country wants an American citizen. I’m also in debt with old student loans up to my neck and worst of all, the bunches of grapes I collected to make homemade wine disappeared one day.” I laughed.

“Ha! In other words, you got into your car and drove to a vineyard with a reputation for a wine that tastes good to you, regardless of distance.  Isn’t that a bit costly?”

“I’m a good capitalist consumer. I borrow money.”

“Well, this is a rather dark scenario we’ve painted.” She said shaking her head.

“Only if we take ourself too seriously. What about you?” I asked.

“There’s only so many beats to my heart.”

“Hm. Well, you never know what’s going to happen when you walk out the front door and visit a vineyard.”

“I’ve been hoping to meet someone for a long weekend, shall we say, for a blessing I deserve.”

“A blessing?”

“As I recall you’re openminded.”

I nodded,

I’m glad. It’s been years.”

 “I know.”

“Perhaps I should tell you something since the last time you saw me years ago.” She reached over and touched my hand.

“You’re married?”

“A platonic companionship, no more, no less.”

“I understand.”

“I also had a personal physical change fashioned. And I realized music helped me to become self-actualized to coincide with the procedure.”

“Fascinating.” I said nodding my head.

“I wouldn’t want you to be surprised.”

‘Would I?”

“Probably not.”


“I’ve also got a few hundred kilograms of grapes in a large vat at my small chalet style retreat near the coast where I paint and grow sun flowers, among other things. It’s not far from here.”


“Have you ever mashed grapes with your feet, Greek style?” Elena asked.