by Emily Brummett                                        They would go to the bar
every week after work,
to “Karaoke Thursday”.
Together.After graduating,
she moved in with him:
each drowning in eight years
of student loans,
ready to start their lives.She knew he started going more,
“a regular” status
while she was only invited
on ThursdaysShe was fed up
with his excuses and
the way he’d come back-
fingers and mouth
stained Marlboro
and jeans acid-washed Bud Light.So now,
on Karaoke Thursdays,
she’s in the apartment watching Late Night,
while he’s swaying left to right,
singing “Don’t Stop Believing,”
a beer in hand,
gulping whiskey neats
between song changes and bathroom breaks.She envisioned their lives together:
Marriage, kids, white-picket-fences
Prolonging her decision to leave, butshe walks out without any argument
on his hangover,
because he was running late
to his daily five-dollar bottomless drafts
and spark of an unfiltered open-mic.     About the Author:Emily BEmily Brummett is in her last year as an undergrad student, studying International Business. In her spare time she enjoys writing poetry, journaling and traveling.