No Call and You’re Back To Where You Were

I was standing on the balcony of the last floor of this 100 story high rise.
Drink in one hand, cigarette in the other.
Our eyes were gleaming at the vision in front of us.
The town below us.
The distance, almost endless.
You could see for miles.
We were at a party for one of the locals.
Mingling with others.
I was discussing with a friend about how my beer must have been the best tasting beer I had ever had.
He looked at me and laughed.
“It’s pretty good, I must admit,” he responded.
And suddenly, I was bumped into from behind.
My slightly numb hands released the bottle into a freefall over the railing.
We looked as the bottle, holding the great beer, begin a trip of sure catastrophe.
As it sunk the seconds passed along like minutes while the bottle flipped and spilled.
It was helpless and we were only worried for the people below.
We looked up and took one last glance over the horizon,
We stared once more into each others faces.
We looked down when my precious glass bottle,
Premature of a finished drink,
Shattered into a million pieces onto the concrete pavement below.
No one was hurt.
It was all alone.