Chasing Tornadoes - Stephen Strange

Combustion Reaction

You woke up with a hell of a hangover and a parched throat that tasted sour, like bad vodka.

"Ugh," you rolled onto your back and looked at the alarm clock. "Shit, I'm late for work."

You fumbled out of bed and began pulling on your work clothes with a toothbrush tucked under one cheek and a facecloth soaking through your bra strap on your shoulder. Spike watched you duck in and out of the bathroom from the living-room, his hungry growl greeting your stinging ears.

Then, suddenly, you remembered.

"Oh, you're right boy," you plopped next to Spike on the couch. "I don't have work today." You slipped out of your work trousers and lounged about for a hot, undecided minute in nothing but the oversized festival t-shirt you wore to bed and your koala print underwear.

Spike growled again, his long tail knocking over a small flower pot. You rolled your eyes, "Right, breakfast, you utter flower fiend."

Your cellphone rang. Caller ID registered it was the hospital. You turned to Spike, "Maybe they need me back after all."

You cleared your throat twice before answering, "Hel—"

"Child," Jan's chipper tone came racing through your phone's speaker. She had that whisper-shout octave that told you she was using the receptionist phone for personal reasons. "What have you done to this poor man?"

"Who?" You leaned onto the couch, Spike clawed his way off the couch arms and stomped all over your stomach, reminding you of the alcohol nausea. "Oof, Spike, ow."

"Stephen, who else?" Jan continued. "He's been walking about with a permanent scowl all morning. Never seen him look so...constipated. Is it true you two went to Gloria's last night?"

"How on earth do you know everything that goes on in this town?" You let out an impressed huff.

"Tiny told me," Jan said. "Well, actually, Tiny told his sister Tina. And Tina's church buddies with my niece Francis, and she told the group chat. Did you know Tiny's had the biggest crush on you since the New Year's party last year? Poor guy. Think he's seeing someone over a dating app or something. Can't keep up."

"There's a group chat?" You scoffed. "Why am I not part of it?"

"Because you don't like my cornbread," Jan retorted. "Anyway, the real reason I called was because my neighbour—Ed—would like to set a date."

"A date?" Your eyes went wide. Then you felt guilty for not calling Teddy back. Why is dating so hard?

"So you can talk about his Prius?"

"Oh, shit, yes. That kinda date...." You stood up to look at your day planner on the kitchen table. "Umm, next week Thurs—hang on, what am I saying, I don't have work. I'm free all week."

"I'll let him know," before she hung up, Jan added. "Oh and wear anything with bees on it. He's into honey farming and bee conservation. May bump down the price if you schmooze him a little."

"Thanks, Jan. I owe you."

"Big time."

The line went dead and you sighed. Spike stepped on your toes, another growl-o-attention coming from his mouth.

As you sliced up a banana into Spike's bowl, your doorbell went off. You looked at the wall clock in your kitchen, chewing the inside of your cheek in thought. Everyone you knew was probably at work.

"Who could that be?" You set Spike's bowl down and the lizard chewed like a baby with no teeth. Without thinking to get decent, you opened the door to a very flustered looking Stephen Strange. He held up the tray of take-out coffee up to his eye-line, but his lips quirked into a secret smirk.