Games: A Love Story

She wants to go out; she so badly wants the familiar freedom and exhilaration of a night out: summer in the city, the rasp of mezcal, cigarette smoke on crowded sidewalks, shared laughter with her friends, relief of responsibility lifted for a few hours. Suddenly nervous, she turns around, looking for a bar cart—too fast, her balance fails, expensive rug and restored wooden floors rushing up. Even if this is just another hurt she’ll hide at the heart of her—even if this is the next car crash, the story she’ll be telling for the rest of her life. A relief from everything she is, and has done, and will continue to be—he could push her into nothing, and she might be able to finally—finally—breathe in that.