Burning Bridges at Last Call

She walked into the bar carrying a secret that weighed heavier than any drink could lift.

The empty stools around her told their own story of Saturday nights that used to matter.

Her fingertips traced the rim of her glass while somewhere in her mind she was replaying a

conversation that ended everything. The amber light caught her hair like fire and for

a moment she wondered if burning bridges ever actually keeps you warm. She wasn't waiting

for anyone anymore. Sometimes the hardest person to face in a crowded room is yourself in an empty

one.