The Last Time I Showed Up at Midnight

                                             by Lorette C. Luzajic


The last time I showed up at midnight, you had blown out all the candles and the only sound in the smoke was the labored humming and tumble of the ice machine. The whisky was open but pushed aside. I tipped some into an espresso cup and took my medicine. The humidity had an aura of its own, pushing the small of my back and my neck like an intense and patient lover. I fumbled for ice but only thin shells fell to my hands. There was a low pulse of jazz, so faint I knew it was the ghost of that night’s music gone. The stars were almost wiped invisible by the saltwater in the air, but I could still see a few blinking faintly and far. I thought about leaving a note before I disappeared forever, but I knew you’d know I’d been there.

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Lorette C. Luzajic is an internationally collected collage artist who also writes poetry and small fictions. Her flash story recently won first place at MacQueen’s Quinterly. She has appeared in numerous journals like Indelible, Wild Word, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, and Red Eft, as well as in a dozen anthologies. She is the founder and editor of The Ekphrastic Review, a journal devoted to writing inspired by art.

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