Reaching 0ut by Peter F. Crowley

 I’ve seen people like her before, those who have been cast adrift from their partner. 

     The moment she steps into the packed Spanish restaurant bar, there’s a wine glass in her hand that follows her everywhere. 

     Soon all words and glances have meaning, looking for physical comfort in eyes that linger. Her words lash out in bluntness, forgetting chalkboard rules. Club music blasts and she waves her arms to the beat, her face increasingly blurred, bare belly button showing. She falls for the “smokin’ hot” bartender who goes around the bar with a bottle of anis that he pours into patrons’ mouths.

     I’ve seen her before. She will be there until the end of the night, double-fisting Spanish red wine and sangria long after her friend leaves. As midnight nears, she’ll reach out to someone who can fill the gaping hole in her chest. Her hips will still be gyrating, and she’ll be smiling. 

     What happens when the night’s music stops? When she’s at home on a rainy Sunday morning with her a five-year old and two teens? Will the rain eat the psychical trauma that she writes about? Will she be able to sleep through her five-year old’s tantrums?

As a prolific author from the Boston area, Peter F. Crowley writes in various forms, including short fiction, op-eds, poetry and academic essays. His writing can be found in Pif Magazine, New Verse News, Counterpunch, Galway Review, Digging the Fat, Adelaide’s Short Story and Poetry Award anthologies (finalist in both) and The Opiate. He is the author of the poetry books Those Who Hold Up the Earth and Empire’s End, and the short fiction collection That Night and Other Stories.