by Sara Hebert
He watched her wither away, from a distance. They drank together on weekend nights in their college town, but she kept going, and he never did. Her favorite barstool quickly grew accustomed to her shape and the way her body rested like the seat was reserved for her; it was. He passed the bar from time to time, on the way back to his apartment with another woman. He wondered if she blamed him for her body swallowing her soul in one sip; she did. The bartender looked forward to her company, until she didn’t come back to the poison.
Sara Hebert is a senior literary arts student at the Mississippi School of the Arts in Brookhaven, MS. She plans to attend Mississippi State University as a Communications and Political Science major. She loves to write poetry, short stories, and articles about universal human experiences.