Beep. . . . Beep. . . . Beep! . . . Beep!!. . Beep!!!. Beep!!!! BEEP!!!! BEE-
Click!
Asher groaned, sitting up and rubbing one eye and threw off his covers as he prepared to start another monotonous day.
“How many times have I told you to wear more than that to bed?” Asher cringed at the nagging voice of his older sister, Ava, rang from the bathroom. “You might be my brother but that doesn’t mean I like seeing you in your underpants.”
He grunted and shrugged on his bathrobe, he woke up at nine to eat breakfast, see Molly and get to class on time.
But nine was awfully early.
“Why do you even get up at nine when your class starts at noon?” Ava demanded, Asher grunted and started to shuffle through the fridge.
Half-carton of milk, cheese, a power bar and two eggs.
And a fly.
“Hey Ava!” He hollered, straightening and scratching his head.
“Yeah, yeah I got it, grocery shopping once I get my paycheck.” She shouted back, poking her head outside the bathroom.
Ava looked like their mother, thin, angular face and long, straight brown hair, except Ava had their father’s eyes, strangely fiery whiskey-brown.
They matched her personality.
“Hey! What happened to your paycheck?” Ava demanded as she poked her head out of the bathroom again, this time wearing nothing but a towel, Asher turned away, scrunching his eyes shut.
“What happened to wearing more than underpants?” He shot back, truthfully, Ava had spent his paycheck on a new dress and shoes for a night clubbing with her girl friends.
“This towel covers more of me than your silly old bathrobe and boxers combined.” Ava sniffed and retreated back to the bathroom.
Asher sighed with relief, Ava would be in there for three hours.
Well, probably only two.
He trundled back to his room, putting on his rain boots and jacket over his long-sleeved shirt and jeans before tromping back out.
Chicago’s winters were always cold, but this had to be one of the coldest.
Then again, he said that every winter. Asher turned the corner behind his small apartment to the little alley that held the dumpsters.
Just in front of one dumpster was a grate, it wasn’t a very clean but he didn’t have to wear gloves to remove it anymore.
He smiled when he remembered the time that he did. . .
. . . “C’mon Molly, quickly!” Asher hissed, holding aside the grate.
Molly whimpered, ducking her lovely head and shaking it, Asher knelt down and stroked between her brows.
“I’m sorry Molly, you’re just too big for the house now, I spent weeks scouting sewers and subways for the perfect place and I found it. The way down isn’t too great but in a few weeks I’ll have it good and clean for you, okay?” He anxiously stroked Molly’s muzzle then she closed her big, yellow eyes and sighed.
(I will go.) Molly opened her eyes, nuzzled his cheek and dove down into the sewer. . .
. . . Shaking his head, Asher hopped down inside the sewer grate.
