Flaming October

I spent my weekend alone in and outside the apartment. They played awful music in the bar at The Edison and it took 4 ½ minutes before someone offered me a drink (I always wanted to know). I wore my Prada sunglasses in the rain on 7th Avenue but it will never be the same without Chloe. 

And on Sunday morning the sound of the elevator and her keys in the lock wakes me up. I pretend I'm asleep when she stands by my bed, leans over and kisses me on the cheek with her raspberry lips. "We'll drink this later" she whispers, carefully placing a bottle of Jack Daniel's on the night stand, and I know that we will.

Her smell lingers, it's like a forest on the first day of fall.