DON’T STOP
I cried because I felt like I was failing everyone, including myself.
When the tears finally slowed, I stayed crouched there on the sidewalk for a long moment, breathing shakily. The street felt too quiet, too exposed. I couldn’t go home like this, not with my mind still screaming and my chest this tight. I needed something stronger than tears to dull the noise.
Wiping my face roughly with the back of my hand, I flagged down the first taxi that passed.
“Please, take me to any decent bar nearby,” I told the driver, my voice hoarse. “I don’t care which.”