As he sits at the kitchen table, in the darkness of the night, sipping a glass of bourbon while a cigarette burns slowly in the ashtray next to him. He scrolls through his phone, from one social app to another, following the girl that he not only loves but who also broke his heart.

sip after sip, his face illuminated by the the blue glow of his screen watching her smile dim as he scrolls through her older post of when she was his. The girl he helped through the darkness of life with late night chats, warm embrace and eager listening ears. The night that she caressed & cradled his chin in her hand as she crept closer to his face and the feeling of her lips, warm and eager that once rest softly on his was later replaced with the cold brim of ice and alcohol soaked in a distant painful memory.

He continues to scroll…

Image after image of their past, post after post of memories of times long ago but not forgotten. selfies taken together that told of a story of love and loss. The past versus the current. He scrolls, trying to find where it went wrong, where her smile began to fade and the glow became dark. A reel running out of film as he rewinds the VHS of their story searching deeper into the meaning of every post.

He scrolls….

With each photo and every video of them both, he takes a sip of his watered down drink with a slow drag of his burning cigarette. Scratching his head and rubbing his eyes, he grows tired into the midnight hours of the night. Finishing several drinks in the dimly lit room clouded by a haze of smoke that fills within the walls, he lit another cigarette. Letting out an exasperated sigh and taking his final sip, he scrolls and stops.

His eyes widen as he notices one thing in each photo. He began furiously scrolling through the post of them together, noticing the one thing more frequent than anything else. Every party selfie, every sunset photo, videos & post. Ashamed and embarrassed, he sat back in his chair and looks at his table in disbelief. He begins to cry and hung his head in regret.

The warmth of her lips, in which he longed for, the feeling of her, pressed against his as all time stands still and love is embraced…. was replaced by.

The cold brim of a glass, filled with ice and liquor.

A short Story By Lucas Durelle