The wine slush brightens my cheeks and I lean toward him to hear his words in the packed restaurant. His lips are near my ear, but not touching. We sit at the bar. Better than a table because I can touch his thigh, offer him a bite of my pasta. Sharing a fork is not a big thing. But he says we’ve already shared our last kiss. Maybe it’s too intimate now. I order a second drink, snap a shot to text to someone else. He’s not into me anymore, and I want him to know someone else might be.
Melissa Flores Anderson has published work in swamp pink, Chapter House and HAD. Her full-length short story collection All and Then None of You is out September 2025 (Cowboy Jamboree). She is a reader/editor for Roi Fainéant Press and EIC of the Broken Hearts Gallery Literary, an Instagram lit project.
"Sharing a fork is not a big thing. But he says we’ve already shared our last kiss. " I felt this one! Congrats on the pub, Melissa!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
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