Lamplighter

We took turns throwing bottles into the air, watching them smash onto the pavement, laughing. It was just the right amount of recklessness and destruction to make us feel young and alive, which we were. They caught the right amount of lamplight and they never hit cars. When they broke they broke into pieces you could never put back together, all that was left was labels. We felt good and were happy and should have left it there.

I'd seen too many movies. I wanted to break one against a pole, pretend to be defend myself, attack someone. Smash, point, come on, let's go then. It didn't work like the ground worked. The bottle twanged with a thud against the steel. It would not break, could not break, and me just altered and foolish enough to keep trying. I didn't realize how long I'd been standing there, how alone I was, how loud the bangs really were.

I threw the bottle at the sidewalk, frustration, malice. I looked up and there you were, whoever you are, looking at me from your bedroom window. And you shook your head, disappointed, never met me, lowered your blinds and turned out the light. And it was just the lamp and me, until I walked home, however long that was.