Written for Six Sentence Story where we are
challenged to incorporate the word “platform” into
a story of exactly six sentences. Here’s my six.

Flower child, barefoot Woodstock hippie …. no, she was never one of those; she was always the sophisticated cool one with her oh so very low-rise jeans, alluring halter tops, ridiculously high platform shoes and drop dead smile.
At twenty she was chic in a smooth and sensual way that was second nature, never one who had to try too hard; she had IT while embracing her imperfections which made her intoxicatingly irresistible.
Living in the fast lane, she danced all night at clubs, rocked out at concerts and hung out with everyone from judges to junkies even though she never really enjoyed drugs with the exception of the indescribably exquisite quaalude which now, at 75, she smiles and remembers coming on to the sounds of Procol Harum.
Memories of 1967, the Summer of Love …. friends and lovers, never a lack of either; men were drawn to her and women were envious of her but it was impossible not to like her.
She was no alley cat, no “screw-‘em-in-the-disco-bathroom” type; she made the rules to her game: never do anything you don’t want to and stop whenever you feel uncomfortable.
Her life was and still is a passionate one with no useless regrets, inadequate apologies or unbelievable explanations …. only her scars which show a life well lived …. and that’s exactly how she likes it.
NAR©2024
This is “A Whiter Shade Of Pale” by Procol Harum
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
The Summer of Love, a time I’ll never forget – a time those of a similar age today will never experience.
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How sad for them.
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Your story and song ending gave me goosebumps. Lots to love here! Thank you, Nancy. 💖
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I’m the one to thank YOU, dear Michele, for your beautiful comments! 🩶
If my story gave you the goosies and a thrill, you are most welcome! 🙏🏼
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🥰🙏🏻
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I am officially in love with her and her raison d’être.
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I love that comment and I’ll tell her you said so!
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You do that! She’s my kinda gal.
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Ditto, sista!!
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You know it!
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I was 9 years for most of 1967 (turned 10 in December). It was the year we moved house. I lost some friends but gained others.
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It was a pivotal year for many of us for lots of different reasons.
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Sounds like the touch of Heaven, on Earth. Smiles in one’s 70’s predicated on a life life memorably and respectfully lived in one’s 20’s.
Wonder if existing in the 60’s was a most accessible path. Cuz the 80’s? Uffda!
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Heaven on Earth! What a fantastic comment, Liz!
The thing I remember most about the 80s is raising my babies.
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I was 14 that summer, and distinctly remember falling off those shoes trying to look really cool. I think I fell off them again about a decade later at the disco club.
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I don’t remember ever actually falling off them but I sure came close. How the hell we managed to dance in those shoes is a mystery. Must be the reason my joints are falling apart today! 😂
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We danced to disco in those shoes, twirling around and around! I have trouble enough now in bare feet!
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Haha! But we looked damn good and that’s half the battle!
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It is better to look good than to feel good…now that dates me!
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Such people are very rare. Lovely portrait of a happy and content soul
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Thanks so much for your beautiful comments, dear Sadje. 🩶
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Always my pleasure
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Yes, I remember “those” days … oh, what a wonderful time we enjoyed …
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One of my favorite groups ever! Thank you for your comments, dear Ivor, and a great song! 🎶 ♡
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My absolute pleasure Nancy 🎵🌝
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