Mountaintops summoned me, but her empty promises only led to endless valleys.
“Please, Atticus,” she breathed into my chest. Her eyes shimmered with effervescent tears that flowed towards my lips. I yearned for her sparkling kisses and ethereal embrace.
“Just one drink won’t hurt,” she told herself.
Last week, she celebrated a year sober.
Our relationship was toxic.
She was never a good friend to me, yet I kept her around because I knew her so well.
She always kept me on my toes. I never knew when she would show up. It was always one of two options: tears in her eyes or angry with shaking fists.
I kissed my burnt fingertips as I climbed into the driver’s seat, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable scorching grip on my steering wheel. The Sonoran Desert was in record-high heat- I’d just made a solo journey across the country, and refused to let the blistering Arizona sun discourage my wanderlust.
“Mary Ann Warren. I advise you to acknowledge your sins.” The Magistrate’s nostrils flared at the end of his hawkish nose, his unsightly, flapping jowls now illuminated by the flames of the executioner’s torch. “Repent before God for your heresy,”