The apartment is too stuffy. I throw open a window. Still stuffy. I open another. October air whips through the place and knocks a few pieces of paper around. The magazine by the window flips its pages.
Sitting on the couch, I finally let go of the baggie. It takes a moment to fall out of my hand and onto my lap. My hand is sweaty. I wipe it on a couch arm next to me. A black sharpied name stares up at me.
“Hey man. Uh.” It’s the first words that he’s said since we left Zeke’s. “Look. Do you want...do you want to do her together?”
I look up at him. The smallest of smiles touches my mouth. It looks like a million pounds is taken off him.
“Yeah. I realize that sounds way worse than I meant.” He looks down at the bag, then back at me. He looks hungry. He flinches. I didn’t realize it, but my fists are clenched.
“You know what. I’ll...I’ll hit the bars tonight.” He makes his way out of the door tossing me a small wave. Closed. Locked.
The bag of human remains in my lap feels heavy. I gently take it and set it next to me. Standing, I strip off my hoodie and go into the kitchen. The sandwich I slap together is made with bread that may have gone bad, but just has that start of it. Hint of decay.
It feels like she is on the couch staring at me. I haven’t turned around since I made it to the kitchen. I get a beer out and finish it facing the sink.
Kira “Krystal” Higgins is sitting on my couch in a baggy. I fight the beer and sandwich back down, and turn.
I thought it would move. Or maybe she would be there. Those cool brown eyes focused on me. Her lips drawn up into a smile, black hair reaching just below her chin. ‘Didn’t make one for me?’ she’d say. I’d laugh and tell her about the bread and we’d go to a taco joint with shitty lightning and greasy food.
Fuck it was cold in here.
I slammed the windows closed then picked up the bag.
(Read more after the jump)