she staggers a bit in the gravel
as she goes to the car
stifles a giggle
glances around to be sure no one has seen
not that drunk
fucking bartender cut her off
she can hold it
cold, gloves gone
keys slip from fingers
she digs in the snow
unsteady
it's the damn heels, the right spike is coming off
she paid enough for them
fucking Macy's
door open
sits inside
moment of worry that it won't start
don't think about that
she checks, has her purse, cell phone out of minutes
car starts
fucking piece of junk
she is trying not to think
about the apartment
her stuff in the street
fuckers
she leans forward, hand on keys
that man seemed like a good guy
in the bar
he talked to her
classy like, bought her a drink
fucking bartender cutting her off
it's his fucking fault the good guy
went to the john and left
yeah, go home to your fucking wife
you'll never know what you missed
touch to her left temple
mirror reassuring
the scar isn't visible, makeup
she is good at makeup
would like to go to Josh's
he didn't really mean it
she shouldn't have gone out
made Josh mad
the scar isn't healed
her daughter
didn't really mean it
don't come here again
drunk I'll call the cops
judgmental
cops, pigs
they're out to get her
touch to her belly
hurting again
vomited this morning
coffee grounds
red too
damn fucking doctors
self righteous, telling her
it hurts
wave of nausea
she swallows
yes, hospital