Flash Fiction #22 – The Server

I tried not to rattle my server tray. 

There she was 

in her black Versace gown: 

my favorite star. 


I grew up watching her 

every red carpet event, 

envisioning her in one of my dresses. 

I had even designed some 

in her measurments. 


But my manager fired staff 

for speaking to celebs. 

He gave them the cocktails 

from my tray, 

and she thanked him profusely 

for the drink I had made. 

She turned to her friend and said,

“I dunno, I’m looking for the perfect gown.” 


I still think of that day, 

and what could’ve been.

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