3 Perfect Shots

Three perfect shots, in the daylight, in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, and nobody heard.

I looked around at first, how is nobody else hearing this? How have the espresso cups not shattered to the floor, how has the earth not risen up beneath our feet and swallowed us whole?

The waiter comes around and asks us if we’d like anything else, with a smile, ignoring the black cloud that seems to be surrounding us, so thick that I choke on it. I want to ask him, did you see that?

The severing of the last five years with one fell swoop?

Splicing us from an us into a you and a me and a goodbye. When he said he was moving I thought we would go together, I had pictures on my wall of little cottages we would live in together while drinking coffee in the middle of the morning away from the city. He said he’d rushed into things, needed time and space to be alone to figure things about.

The earth started to shake and then I asked him, “do you still love me?”.

“I’m sorry”, he said

“I just don’t.”

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