Alina Lopez After The Party !!top!! Today
That girl was already asleep.
She changed into a shirt so old the fabric had gone soft as prayer. She poured the dregs of a flat seltzer into a glass and added a single ice cube that cracked in the silence. From the couch, she watched the sky lighten from black to a bruised purple. The city outside was waking up—garbage trucks groaning, a distant siren, the first pigeon cooing on the fire escape. alina lopez after the party
The bass from the final song still hummed in her molars. Alina Lopez leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the kitchen window, watching the last Uber pull away, its taillights bleeding red into the wet pavement. The party—a friend’s birthday, loud and bright and full of shallow laughter—was now a corpse of plastic cups and the ghost of expensive perfume. That girl was already asleep
