France

You were in a bar, getting drunk. Obviously. Drowning out the sorrows of the night when a lady sat beside you, ordering a water as she looks at you and smirks.

“Hello, I’m Maeve.” I say to the helpless man beside me. He seemed so done with life, perfect. I’d gladly help him, drown out his pain. I put out my hand to him, waiting for him to shake it.