Sleeping with my eyes open, or awake with my eyes closed.
Decisions, decisions.
Probably that first one, no, the second one, for sure.
My eyes are closed, I'm awake now.
I open my eyes.
Bluish-gray light is flooding through a curtain on my left.
Theres a soft inhale, exhale, and a movement about a foot away from me. Without moving I look to my right, making out the face in the din. Soft, dark features, short hair, smooth tanned skin. I have no idea who this is.
I look back toward the ceiling and slowly reach for my phone. "Eighteen missed messages." My phone alerts me.
I don't care.
I really don't care.
Deleting all of the messages without a second glance, I check the time.
3:09 am.
Late.
I don't know who this guy is, but he is fine looking. Theres a good chance we didn't do anything, no matter how drunk I may get, I'm not that stupid. Theres an even better chance I could actually pursue a relationship.
I sit up and pluck my shirt up off the floor, pulling it over my head.
The best chance is he may have a couple bucks in his wallet, ha, that's a joke.
I check his wallet, not for money, I do want to see his name, though.
Can't help my own curiosity.
Hugh Reyes, Hugh T. Reyes.
Nice name.
I put his I.D back where I got it and grab my shoes, I put them on quietly and grab the handle of (hopefully) Hugh's front door, I open the door and peek into the hall.
Im good.
Before walking into the hall and down the steps, I reach around in my pockets and find a scrap of paper, I roll it up and shove it between the door and the hinges. Its open and closed, open enough to get in, closed enough to seem closed.
I shove my hands in my pockets and go to the first floor, outside, then onto the sidewalk. 24th street, clean apartments line the street.
How in the fuck did I get to such a.... Neighborhood?
Whatever.
I don't plan on leaving Hugh, his apartment was drug-free, sanitary, faintly metrosexual. I can live with that, if he keeps me, if I'm keepable, i'll stay.
I pull out a shiny red package and open it, taking a cigarette and trying to light it, burning the tip of my middle finger, tensing in pain, I inhale.
3:21 am.
What is this shit?
No cars, no dealers, no hookers, not even a single bar in sight. Wow.
I start to wander, rubbing my burned finger on my jeans, glancing around, activity?
No activity, anywhere.
I hear a clunk and look above myself, a light flickers. I walk faster.
I feel the breeze, then one, three, four drops of rain. I step under a shop roof, near an alley, probably not smart.
Click.
Click.
Click.
High heels and raindrops.
I take another drag and look to my left, a woman with a dog struts down the sidewalk, in no hurry from the rain, and in an almost clandestine way, slides her wet hand into my pocket, without even stopping. She walks away, no haste, and disappears around the corner. I don't even bother to check my pocket, there wasn't anything in there in the first place, pickpockets must hate me. Never anything for them.
I pull out my phone and check the time.
3:46am.
Alright, thats enough.
I drop my second cigarette and stomp it out, turning back down the sidewalk.
Probably should've checked my pocket.
