From Above the Treetops

IV

I slid out of the bed as quietly as I could, collecting my clothes from the floor and creeping out of the room. I rubbed my eyes as they were harassed by the glare of the bathroom light; it was still dark outside so my eyes needed time to adjust. I used the guys bathroom and pulled my clothes on, spritzing myself with the aftershave the guy had left on his sink for good measure. I'm sure he wouldn't mind.

I could hear his soft snores from here, which was a good sign that he was still asleep. I forgot to ask if he lived alone, so I'd have to make a beeline for the front door. I hated when they wake up as you leave; it's always awkward having a conversation afterwards when it's obvious you both just wanted a hookup and nothing more. If you wanted something more you wouldn't be looking for it on a club dance floor the night before.

Double checking I had my wallet and phone, I left the stranger's flat, much to Icarus' relief. He hated when I engaged in these kind of hookups because he found no joy in it. Descending down a couple of flights of stairs, I found myself in a pretty nice area of the neighbouring city. It was probably around four in the morning and everything was still. A black cat crossed the road and disappeared behind a bin, its shadow dancing on the wall behind as if it was trying to catchup to the speedy feline.

I could see a corner shop sign in the distance and decided to head that way, following the neon colours in the distance until I was pushing open the heavy metal and glass door. The door chimed as I stepped inside, the fluorescent indoor lights harsh against the natural, dim light of the moon. The shopkeeper eyed me from above his paper, nodding to greet me before lowering his eyes back down to the page in front of him.

I stepped around the loose bottles of fizzy drinks scattered around the base of the aisle and past the random assortment of tinned goods and dried noodle packets before I came to the refrigerated drinks in the corner. The assortment was completely random, yet familiar, as they stocked the same random assortment as any local corner shop. A mixture of name-brand, off-brand, and imported goods too. I know too well that N.J would choose the Caribbean drinks for their brightly coloured blues and purples and syrupy, sugary taste. Mila would probably go for the aloe-variety; something fruity.

I chose an iced coffee.

I walked to the till, placing my choice down and fishing out my wallet from my pocket.

"Is that all, boss?"

I glanced up at him as he look back at me. I looked back down at my drink and then at the shelves underneath the till. I spotted a packet of those peanut-butter chocolates and chucked them with my coffee without thinking, dropping a couple pound coins and taking my change.

As I stepped outside again, I scrunched my nose. I'm not entirely sure why I chose this; I don't even like chocolate. I sat on the steps of the building next to the shop and popped off the lid of my coffee, taking a long sip and relishing the way it hit the spot. I eyed the obnoxiously orange packet and tore it open, the sickly smell of chocolate hitting my nostrils immediately. I usually went for bitter flavours: grapefruit, coffee, lemon. If I was going to buy chocolate it would usually be dark or at least some kind of citrus, ginger or coffee flavoured. I bit into the chocolate anyway, pleasantly surprised by the taste.

I finished the pack. Even Icarus enjoyed it.

I headed off in the dark to find a taxi stand, coming across one a couple of streets away at the junction of a busy main road. I popped the rubbish from my snack into the bin and approached the drivers window, giving him the address before I hopped inside and slumped in the backseats.

"Good night, lad?" The cabbie asked, glancing at me through his rearview mirror.

"It was okay." I nodded.