by ALTON

The moon beamed through my window as I turned the car off. I sat there. The familiar void was coming to my body. It’s about 3:25 in the morning. Man, I hate restless nights. I look outside. The house has no lights on. She’s asleep but not in my arms. I hit my steering wheel. Dammit. You make this so hard. I reach in my glove compartment to grab the shoe. There wasn’t a scratch, or scuff. I curse the heavens and pretend to get out the car. Who am I kidding. I’m not a man. I’m weak. My mechanism is to grab whatever I can and chug it till it’s empty. I take one last look as I inhale for a deep breath. Then, I turn on my car to leave. As I speed I notice her bedroom light cut on, as she was hugged by another man. I’ll give you your shoe one day Cinderella.

 

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