IF I HADN’T STOPPED DRINKING …

Darcey-May Gage

I hadn’t slept with anyone since last night. I was getting ready to go out again. Pointed heels, no straps. Black and matching my fitted dress. Curls tight in rollers keeping the hair out of my face whilst I threw up the drink from the night before. My second home is the bathroom. The man who stayed had left early – no breakfast for him to eat here. He watched me strip my bedding; I watched him leave.
       My stomach imitating the washing machine spin as I caught up on emails, scheduled meetings for next week. I didn’t catch up or schedule any sleep though. Today had passed by in a blink, yesterday’s plates still soaking in the sink.
       I crave the dance floor. I long to be touched. I hold eye contact. I yearn. I pine. I drink.