“Oops,” Eileen giggled as Merlot dripped on her wounded heart.

“Are you still here?” she shouted into the encroaching darkness.

The back door slammed.

Eileen threw her glass against the studio wall: a red-stained arc overlying matted eggshell finish. Shards embedded here, there.

“You'll be back! Who'll take you to your AA meetings, huh? Who?”

by: Michael Therrien