Twenty
All Alone
Luca
I don’t dream much anymore.
I wake up from a sea of black, in a dim room with oak floors, steel beams, and floor to ceiling windows, showcasing a panoramic view of Manhattan overlooking the Hudson. There’s also a gal, lying next to me, her breathing coming out on contented hums of air.
Hnh…I must have been off my face last night if I let her sleep over. She’s pretty. Redhead, early twenties maybe, with a lithe body that makes me think of dancers who’ve gone through special programs to receive their training.
I shake her awake with the same consideration I’d give if I’d woken up next to a sleeping rat.
“Time to get going,” I tell her. “Sleepover’s done.”
I don’t wait for her answer. Just grab my phone off the steel nightstand and text Joey as I head to the bath
