keep off the phone



I awoke to the smell of a cigarette.



She was not in the bed.

The bedroom shade was wan, barely lit.

From outside came a sound of water dripping.



The cigarette smell grew stronger, creeping under the thin door.



I began to feel aroused.

Who knew where she'd gotten them.



We'd both quit in the months after the last war, neither of us wanting to be beholden to the addiction, should slim times ensue.



I pulled on my dusty denim coat and pants.

I pulled on my wool socks and stuffed my feet into my boots.



I stared for a couple of seconds at the duct tape I'd wound around the boots to hold them together. The tape was falling apart. Time to find some more tape.



I opened the thin door. The hallway was mostly dark. But I could see what looked like candlelight flickering from the kitchen area.



I said her name, but she did not answer.



I walked down to the entrance to the kitchen area.



She was sitting at the card table, smoking. A torn open carton of Pall Mall Blues sat on the table. She was ashing into this thick, heavy-looking white candle I'd never seen before.



She was wearing a brand new cashmere sweater, pea green, with a stretchy neck that revealed her bony chest. I could see her bare thighs and calves under the table.



I stared at her soft pale skin, tight along her collarbone.



"What is this?" I said.



The phone rang.



Oh shit I hope I can find me some gasoline. Oh shit I hope I can find me a gun.

What if I have to kill a man to steal his car.



The phone rang and rang.



"It's for you," she said.



"You fuckin' bitch." I could barely speak.



"You going to pick up?"



My hands were shaking as I picked up the phone. A feeling so distant, so unprecedented, holding that dusty receiver to my ear.



There was a click and a pause. Then a recording of a woman's voice began:



You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have no right to an attorney. You are under arrest. Should you challenge subsequent eventualities...



I dropped the phone. It banged against the wall.



"Who'd you fuck?" I yelled.



"It's all the same."



She yawned. She lit another cigarette.



I thought about killing her. I told her so. Then I heard a car door open.



She threw a pack of Palls at me. They bounced of my chest and fell on the floor. I wish I could say she cackled and said something insane but she just sat, smoking, staring off to the side, impassive. Not looking at me nor anything.



I ran back down the hallway and bashed the nailed-shut bedroom window with my fist. The glass broke and I dove through the window.



The sun was up now, the sky full gray.



I ran.