I looked up from the ledger as the bar door swung open and one of the regulars walked in. He was the first customer of the evening. For a second, with the door open, the sunlight shone in, lighting up the usually darkened bar and illuminating the dirt and grime of the place. I winced.

It didn’t seem to matter how hard I scrubbed, the Corral Bar just never looked clean. The owner had told me not to bother - Buddy thought that none of his customers cared about how dirty the place was. Personally, I’d rather work in a clean bar.

I nodded at Jackson as he took a seat at the far end of the bar. Like most of the regulars at the Corral, Jackson wasn’t here for any conversation. He just wanted a quiet corner to sit and drink. I put down my pen and fetched his beer. I’d been working here for three months now, not long really, but that was more than enough time to learn the drink orders of every regular that came in.

When I left New York, I had no idea where I was going to go. I’d simply fled. I left everything behind, especially everything that had happened on that last, terrible day. I was too upset and distraught to even think of a destination. I just got on the first bus out of there, leaving everything behind and letting the thrum of the bus engine numb me.

I’d stayed like that, huddled in my seat for hours, feeling so angry, as the bus drove through the night, taking me away from all my problems.

After a few hours, my red-hot anger faded into a deep sadness. It was a good thing that the bus had been half-empty, it meant no-one saw me when I burst into tears. I had been able to cry with a degree of privacy. The other passengers leaving New York had looked just as miserable as I did anyway. I’m not even sure they noticed me.

In any case, no-one had stopped to ask why I was crying; even if someone had seen me, everyone was too wrapped up in their own problems to ask about mine. I guess that’s just life in New York.

Finally, after I’d cried myself out of all my tears, I had fallen asleep, sitting upright on my bus seat. Exhausted.

I don’t even know how long I slept. But when I awoke, after hours of traveling, I felt like I had a weight lifted off my shoulders. I felt like I was free of all the things that had been weighing me down, that I’d escaped. I was free of the job I’d just quit, and my shitty boss, and free from the ex-boyfriend that I never wanted to see again.

The next day, when the bus stopped for gas in a small town, I found, without too much surprise, that the joint bank account that I shared with my ex had been emptied. He had wiped it clean.

I guess that’s just the kind of man he was.

I stared at the ATM screen, feeling like such an idiot. Jake had always had a mean streak in him. After all the other ways that he’d betrayed my trust, this really shouldn’t have been a surprise, but somehow it still hurt.

I should have been devastated about the joint bank account. We both put money into that account, saving up for the life that we were planning together.

I should have thought about taking my money out as soon as it was over between us. It was so stupid of me.

But then I’d been stupid about a lot of things when it came to my old life.

Things hadn’t been great between Jake and I for a while. Still, I would never have expected for things to end the way they did. I’d come home from work early. Finding him, like that, was the biggest shock of my life. Compared to that, an emptied bank account was just the shitty frosting on top of a shit cupcake.

But that life was gone now, and I just couldn’t seem to care about the money, I was too worn out by everything else that had happened. I’d walked into my apartment to find my boyfriend in bed with someone else, cheating on me, and I wasn’t even sure it was the worst thing that had happened to me that day.

So, I did the only thing that I could think to do. I ran away from my problems.

I only had one bank account that Jake didn’t have access to. I checked it immediately. There wasn’t much in it. I just hoped it would be enough.

I bought a bus ticket west and, then, when I arrived at the end of the line, I did the same thing again. I bought another bus ticket, another ticket west and more miles between me and New York.

For a while, I just traveled, spending hour after hour staring out of the window and watching the scenery change. I traveled until I was sick of traveling, until I couldn’t imagine spending one more minute sitting in those cramped and smelly seats.

I wasn’t sure what made me choose this particular town. Maybe it was something to do with the scenery, because it was a town surrounded by the sort of wild open nature that I, a city girl, had never really seen before. Or maybe I was just tired of running and this town was as good a place as any to settle down for a while.

I collected my bags from the storage compartment under the bus and looked up at the sign nailed above the door of the tiny bus station.

‘Welcome to Beauville’

Well, at least the name is pretty, I thought to myself.

The numbing effect of all those hours on the bus had at least partially worked. I had a sense that I had escaped my problems. That I was free of the pressures and worries that had been weighing me down. But as good as freedom felt, it was overwhelming too. All my plans for my life in New York had been washed away and I had no idea what to do next. For the first time in my life, I was directionless.

In New York City I’d had a career. Sure, it had been one that I’d hated every second of, but at least I got up every day with a purpose. What was I going to do in a town like this?