We used to talk more when drinking. We used to drink less. And less often. It’s been six days in a row, something not done since our early days of romance and bar going and always kissing and not giving a damn about the world.
And look, we’re drinking now, again, out back in the sun on this seventh day. We’re quietly sipping, looking only at our phones, scrolling for some meaning out there but seeing only increased death as the bottles pile up at our feet because we don’t have the energy to put them in the recycling bin.
Dave O’Leary is a writer and musician living in Seattle. He’s had two novels published and has had prose and poetry featured in, among others, Versification, Cajun Mutt Press, Vamp Cat Magazine, and Reflex Fiction where he was long-listed for the Autumn 2019 Flash Fiction Prize.
100 Words Of Solitude 