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Bad First Date

By Maya Joseph

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    By Janhavi Kulkarni
   
The deep brown liquid sloshed at any sudden movement and insipid pale beige fragments were collecting at the bottom of the glass. The drink reflected only a blurry image back, causing the owner to giggle foolishly into his cup. 

His cracked lips were tinted the morbid shade of mulberries, pulled into a dismal smile, not quite reaching the buds of his fluttering eyes, and mouthing more words than audibly speaking, enunciating. 

Constantly making wordy, nonsensical metaphors about his life—about how nothing ever worked out for him, 
That love most often never worked for him. 

His shaky fingers tracing invisible characters in the air in front of him, drawing pictures or leaving codes he thought the world could understand in his fuzzed state of mind, 

He pulled at the collar of his turtleneck whenever he took a sip, hooking one, two fingers in and letting it slap back against his neck, as if it wasn’t just the confining fabric of the sweater that was bothering him, but something deeper. 

With no regards to his company, he was stumbling outside on sinewy legs, falling on his bare knees on the crumbling pavement and leaning over the sidewalk. His expression twisting and his small hands grasping at himself, at anything; for something tangible, fingers only landing on the frayed ends of his jeans. 

The man became sickly green in the face accompanied by a splash of a despotic red hanging on the very tips of his ears, letting go of himself, and he heaved. 
Leaving only a bad taste in bystander’s mouths, and a pledge to get better for himself in the morning. 
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