View from the Bottom of a Glass

The room is crowded with conversation. Laughter expands; presses on the walls and windows that strain to hold it in. Whispered secrets form the fog that floats on the tile floor. Everyone steals a glance at new figures in the door. Each face scanned slyly in search of a missing lover.

There are no people on the barstools, their thirsty wolf eyes stalking bartenders. Not tonight. No one sits still long enough to be observed. The whole is motion. Glasses are drained by trailing wisps of light. The bodies are carried forward by the momentum of the dark, the music, the alcohol. They press together, fly apart, repeat. Relationships drift in under shared gravity and crumble into stardust only to form again with a familiar stranger.

You and I watch.

— 30 —

I’m a writer, photographer and filmmaker in Flagstaff and I love people watching. If you liked this, please like, comment, share or follow me on Twitter: @jonnyeberle.

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