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Drops

The bottle tumbled from my hand and into oblivion. Liquor and glass shot across the floor. I sat in my chair, looking down at the mess I had made, contemplating the meaning that it held.

Even though my mind was swimming in the alcohol’s dull murk, I could feel something shifting underneath the blurred thoughts. Something had changed with the breaking glass. Something was being taken away. I was slowly being hollowed out, and it had started with that bottle dropping to the floor.

I looked up and saw her standing on the threshold, purse hung over her right shoulder. Her body was leaning towards the door. I looked into her eyes. They were steel. I couldn’t see past them as they bore into me with cold intensity.
She stood like that for a minute, and then wordlessly, she opened the front door and left.

The rest of the night was silent.

I looked back down at that puddle of alcohol, and alone, I contemplated the warm drops that fell into it with meek splashes.

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