I wake up early and she's standing over me
like a rain cloud in the washed out backlight from the window. She
smells of black tea and generic cologne (Guess Seductive?), the first
thing on my mind is where Henry's hand is. He's asleep beside me, covers
kicked off, she looks carefully at my feet, then my legs, then his
hand.
This is it, this is when she kills me. Our eyes meet, I
listen for traffic from the street outside, something to interrupt her
but her insipid little girl's voice is what breaks the dithering
silence: "I hear it's snowing in New York". She says it and leaves, just
turns around in one fluid motion and walks out of the room, cautiously
closing the door behind her.
Five hours later now and I still don't know what that means.
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