Leaving Las Vegas

by John O'Brien

Even in his death, no doubt, he will haunt Amex, causing them to be charged the additional fees incurred in getting his rotting stink out of the hotel room.

“You know, I saw you last week,” she says, taking another exploratory step. “I saw you fall down on the sidewalk.” “No kidding? Which time? Last week I fell down two times—two that I know about. Hang around with me and you’ll get to see it a lot,” he says.

“I’m rambling. I really like you. You make me want to talk. I don’t know what time it is.”

The closer he gets to her, the deeper he falls for her, the more he thinks that this might be a mistake. Maybe

You’re like some sort of antidote that mixes with the liquor and keeps me in balance, but that won’t last forever. You’ll get very tired of it very quickly.”