the foreigner

a short story The first heartbreak was with her father. She used to know him until he decided to leave them for another younger, prettier woman in a more exciting city. She was ten when she saw him packing his stuff, her mother staring with blank eyes in the corner of the room, chewing the last bit of love on her chapped lips. Alice believed that death came twice for everybody. Once, when the body was buried. Twice, when the last person who remembers them also died. At fifteen she decided that he was dead, once again when Matthew moved out, 10 years later. Alice zone in just before the bartender asks her to leave, for the second time in an hour. The bartender wipes the counter clean, making sure she will not rest her head there again. She smiles awkwardly, rubs her mouth for any drool residue, and leaves the cash. Walking out of the bar, tightening the fur coat around her body, it’s four in the morning. The road looks haunted and colder than yesterday. She stayed in the bar, waiting…