Dents

[+] Phoenix On The Hill

"'M hungry."

The cabinet door squealed annoyingly on its hinges as 2D slammed it shut. It was the fourth time he'd opened that same cabinet. I couldn't grasp why he thought there'd be anything different inside if he did it again.

I rested my elbows on the kitchen table with a Nintendo DS in hand. I was practicing at Mario Kart, striving to get to a point where I'd at least have been able to compete with everyone else. My eyes started to burn from the hours of time I'd invested. My level of improvement was unfortunately inconsequential in light of everyone else's talent.

"Saoirse. 'M hungry," 2D griped, returning to the fridge to observe the contents for the umpteenth time.

I focused intently on the flashing lights of the game, mindful not to turn my attention away for even a moment. Without breaking my line of sight from the screen I said, "I can warm up some of that steak and kidney pie Russel made the other day."

2D, lit by the fluorescent bulb of the refrigerator, cast a disgusted look my direction. I was so caught off guard by it that I ended up looking right at him and burst out laughing. I dropped the DS. It clattered half way across the table, securing my spot in last place inevitably.

"Please, luv. No. Anyfink but 'at."

"You got it," I said, shutting the game off.

"So, what do you want, then?"

He huffed, kicking his sneaker into the edge of a loose tile like a grumpy child. I got up from the table and stepped over a tattered box filled to the brim with defective vinyl copies of the new album. It was due to be released in three days, which was coincidentally just a single day before Murdoc would presumably be back in town.

Of course, all of us knew it wasn't a coincidence.

I slid on a pair of weather-beaten boots leaning against the wall by the door. I put on 2D's sweater that was hanging nearby.

"C'mon. I know what you want. Let's head out."

"If yew say so, luv."

I giggled. He already knew that I wouldn't be able to deny him anything while he was being so cute.

2D took long strides over the piles of junk in the kitchen that seemed to accumulate eternally. He made it over to me in five tactful steps and placed a hand on my shoulder. Leaning down slowly, he planted a soft kiss on my cheek.

It was fairly warm in the afternoon lately, but the evenings were often drafty. A murder of crows flocked together upon a low hanging telephone wire, cawing out praises of the night as it came down upon us. The paved sidewalk along the road was littered with plastic bags, cigarette butts, and trash. Shockingly, our yard was far cleaner in comparison to the neighbors nearby. It had been a recent project of Noodle and I. It was coming along wondrously, though the garbage men couldn't quite keep up with our enthusiasm.

We walked about a quarter mile toward town and stopped at a pizza joint carved in to the ground like some kind of metro station. It was attached to a strip of adjacent buildings of varying heights. Some were more decrepit than others. A ramshackle establishment that specialized in a niche form of acupuncture was awkwardly constructed atop the pizza shack. The whole city block was cluttered with similarly disorganized businesses. I couldn't fathom that the engineer responsible for planning that mess still had a job.

The glass swinging doors were covered in greasy stains and handprints. They thudded harshly behind us as we entered.

The interior was laid with a checkerboard of red and white tiles. There were scarlet booths on either end in various states of distress. A few lonely tables occupied the floorspace with an unusual placement. Opposite of the entry was a battered countertop bar with an old-fashioned cash register set crookedly atop it. Behind the counter was a large, oily man with a combover and a stained tank top.