The Midnight City Social Hour

--Mini pt3

Tommy felt sick: a dehydrated throat, a headache, his stomach empty (but he wasn't hungry; as if he had burned too much glass in a Dizzy Dust pipe): when he sat up he made for the bathroom. Mini and Daisy's bathroom was clean. Almost nothing around their sink, apart from soap. Tommy ran cold water from the faucet and splashed it onto his face. He drank a little bit before pouring some into a glass from the kitchen.

Mini watched him from the couch. Tommy set the glass in the sink and walked out to the main room. "Ok, I'm ready."

"Are you ok to drive?"

Tommy didn't think so.

Mini said, "I'll drive then."

"Are you sober?"

"My vagina is hallucinating from the Suds. Everything else feels how wonderful the world is." Although Mini wobbled to the front door, across a gravelled front yard with snow in tiny patches.

Tommy could see his breath. He was glad he brought his coat. The Kia Sorento was almost frozen: the front windshield was completely iced, the door slightly stuck, despite being unlocked. Mini was wrapped in a blanket, as Tommy sat beside her. They had to wait for the windshield to thaw.

"Do you have heavier clothing?" Tommy asked.

"In th-the bah-back... t-too col-cold right now." Mini was completly under the blanket.

From the center console, near the cup holders, there was an ashtray. Dunhill cigarettes were near the gear shift, under the front display. Tommy put a cigarette between his lips and blew out smoke. The windows didn't look like they had melted in any way. When he put his eyes on one spot, and focused, it looked as if the snowflakes were spinning in circles. The colors of blue and white glowed neon hues.

"I'm still feeling it." 

"Feeling what?" Mini asked from under the covers. 

"The Suds. The snowflakes are spinning in circles."

"That's what my vagina has been telling me."

"Seriously?"

Mini popped her head out from under the blanket. "Maybe," she said. "By the time this window thaws, my legs might be working again." From under her seat she pulled out a spatula. "In about 10-20 minutes, you'll have to use this to scrap the ice."

"Your windows thaw."

"But this will cut away at what sticks. My windshield wipers haven't been changed in a while. They barely keep the rain off. Snow sticks like glue."

Tommy held a spatula in his hand. The cigarette in his other. Then he said, "Alright fuck it I'll just started chipping away at the snow now." 

But the door was frozen shut.