I found one of my old ideas and decided to work more on it based on this challenge. Looking through my posts, I have to say I am yet to find my 'own' style of writing. Still, I think this one is my personal favourite.

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I think I found love when I was very young, in an alleyway.
She was there leaning against the wall, her arms around a man with years more than ours combined. Her balance swayed, a hemline lifted even higher. She sang the hymn of debauchery, her breath intoxicated with nicotine and liquor. As her lips parted, she saw me and froze.

Exposed.

I pried away from the sight. It was too late; I’ve fallen.
I think I loved her, for a brief moment. Or maybe I love her still. I could not decide.
(I still dream of cigarettes and absinthe.)