Washed-Out

Recall that feeling,
Like the first sip of coffee in the morning.
Certainly it's fading away now.
Not the good kind of fade, like a sunset.
More like a pale quilt,
Or a washed-out picture.
Just the memory of a laugh.
An empty bottle of Coke,
Left by the side of the road.
Awaiting the inevitable smash,
Glass versus concrete and rubber.

(NaPoWriMo 9)