Ruby Red Marionette

one | explode

It had a tendency to be gloomy here. 

I’ve checked; it wasn’t the weather. Sure, when the weatherman says it’s going to rain, the sky darkens and the clouds look like some dark spirit chewed them up and then spit them out, but even without the forecast, it wasn’t a rare occasion. 

Today was one of those days.  It's six o’clock in the morning, and I was late, but all I could do was sit on the edge of my bed and stare out of the window, wondering why God decided to turn the lamp off on this side of the globe. 

I looked back at the clock again. Six-o-five. I didn’t have to be at work for any earlier than eight o’clock, but it's on the other side of town. An hour away. The other hour was to account for how slowly I travelled, and any other unexpected events. 

I released a heavy, unsatisfying sigh, and rolled off the bed for a cigarette. The lighter wasn’t exactly where I remembered leaving it, but it didn’t worry me. The last thing I had recollection of saying last night was ‘I’m drunk’, and then I woke up in someone else’s home. 

I knew who the ‘someone else’ is. I didn’t trust him, but I knew him - his name, at least - and someone named Simon with overgrown breasts and bowed legs didn’t seem like the type to do any harm. So I took my cigarette and marched downstairs in my bra and underwear, gliding on the very tips of my toes. I stopped when I made out his profile; he sat on the edge of the couch, rubbing his right leg while an HBO special about lesbians illuminated the dark room with light and forced moans. A few uncomfortable, yet interesting minutes passed before he felt my presence. I think he knew I was there, but was trying to decide whether to turn around or just pretend like neither of us were in the room. I took one more step and then his head popped up, as if the last step of the staircase was a trigger for his neck. 

“Good morning,” I said to him. He just looked at me for a while, his mouth open, and then turned off the TV. The video was almost done anyway. I kind of wanted to see how it ended. 

Simon buttoned his pants, covered up his box of Vaseline with the throw pillows, and then turned on the light. I squinted from the shock, and left my eyes closed for a few moments once I realized that I could fall asleep right here, standing on my feet, if I wanted to. I could absorb myself in the purple haze that swallowed all the color and furniture and bullshit in the room. Just drift off. 

But something wouldn’t let me. 

When I opened my eyes again, Simon wasn’t in the room. I heard shuffling downstairs in the basement, but he couldn’t have passed by me - I would have heard him. I went into the kitchen to find him bent over, neck-deep in the fridge. I placed a hand on his back, making little circles on his bare skin. He stayed in position, fiddling around in the fridge, and then stood up and closed the door. He handed me a pack of taco wraps. 

“Hold that over your ass.” 

I hadn’t remembered that I was only in a bra and panties. I placed the wraps over my private area, and then opened the package and took a bite of one. Simon stared at me like I was an out-of-control toddler. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Can you please put some clothes on?” 

I pulled a whole wrap out of the pack, took another bite, and then threw it at him. He rolled his eyes and threw it in the garbage. 

“You know,” I rested the wraps down on the counter, “I didn’t ask to come here.” 

Simon ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. “I found you on the street in front of a sex shop. You didn’t ask, but I had to bring you.”