“It’s been too long! How have you been?”

The bottle spills in my mind, drenching the paper filled with my possible replies. The desk inside the office in my mind now reeks of whiskey along with ink and sweat. Lovely.

Picture the words, simple.

The alcohol washes the ink on the paper away, dripping in a puddle of clear-brown and with black swirls on the floor, seeping into the hard wood. Saturating my brain. Intoxicating my thoughts. I see the pictures of her on the desk wash away with the ever growing spill on the desk. They crash to the floor. They shatter into pieces.

Her dress on the hangar on the wall, she never picked it up. It grows brown now, the pool of warm whiskey engulfing the room, up to my neck.

I dive under, searching for what’s left of my possible response.

I dive through the cracked photos of her, the ripped clothes she once wore, the dress she never picked up.

Everything is getting dark, my ears are popping.

I need air.

“I’ve been alright, thanks.”