Sherry stumbles towards the bar counter.
“I think you’ve had enough,” the bartender stares into her unfocused eyes.
“I’m fine… Just one more…”
The bartender would not budge. Sherry turns around and looks at her table.
There he is. Sitting alone, his delicate hand on the table, patiently waiting for her.
He is too good for her. He has never complained about her unpredictable life, her lust for partying.
When she is not partying, she stays in bed crying. He comforts and kisses her. He knows and understands the “she” under the mask.
Sherry wishes the “she” under the mask would just die. Unless she finds a civil way to live with her, the fun and happy mask will one day shatter.
She grabs a glass of water that the bartender put on the counter and drains.
“I need some help. For his sake.”
For Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers week of 04-26-2016 and The Daily Post’s daily prompt: “Mask“