Cigarettes and Loose Change

Cigarettes and Loose Change by Edmund Siejka On a late afternoon There was a stillness When nothing seemed to move. Listless and sort of down I knew a bar Squeezed in between non- descript buildings. Hesitating I stood outside Searching the gray lifeless windows When the bar’s neon light Beckoned. Behind the dark oak bar She was taking inventory Fingers lightly Touching each bottle of Bottom shelf Bar brands Behind me on the walls Were photos of the old time fighters From the time before I was born I ordered the house Bourbon Grimacing, I felt it burning down. Then I asked Last time we spoke You said you might be heading out? I was she said Still leaving? She answered, Maybe. It could be any day now. I quietly sipped my drink At the far end of the bar Shadows moved Narrow eyes Pretending not to see. Leaning forward she whispered The owner lets them Hang out in the back Smoking cigarettes and carrying on They’re OK But take my advice Don’t leave any loose change on the bar. Staring into her eyes I found himself Wishing that I knew more of her There was something about the way she moved That made me forget where I was. Soon, I only had A few crumpled bills Left in my jeans Leaving a tip on the bar I pushed my stool back The scraping sound Made her turn around Her hazel eyes meeting mine And for a solitary heart beat We were one. Suddenly there was the sound of broken glass Angrily she went to the back Alone, I knew the moment We had Was somehow taken away from me And I didn’t have the courage To convince a pretty girl to stay.