Tuesday, August 14, 2012

hole

dusk was settling in through the half open windows when she finally opened her eyes and grudgingly kicked the duvet to the floor. night time already?

what a waste of life. but it was better than being awake. those long empty hours. maybe she'd stay in bed for just a bit longer just staring at the ceiling. cold and lonesome. a hard change to make, having that bed to herself. without a warm body to sleep next to. she reached out to the bedside table, found a half a cigarette, and searched with her fingers for a matchbox. with all her energy, she rose, put the cigarette to her mouth and tried, and tried to light the matchstick unsuccessfully. oh that's right, the empty glass lying on the floor reminded her, she'd spilled water all over her table in drunken haze last night.

who was he, the man from last night? just a blur in her memory, he hadn't even left a piece of evidence except for her unreliable recollections from last night. the last thing she remembered, was laughing, throwing her heels to him while they stumbled home from the bar together. what was his name again? couldn't remember. did they do it? she stood up from her bed, catching the wall as the head rush blinded her.

as her vision returned, she assessed the room around her. the day was breathing its last and orangeish light was streaming in the way she liked it. the creaky wooden floors were cluttered with clothes and piles of books and papers. she stumbled to the gas stove across the room with her cigarette, looking for the lighter. her phone blinked next to the stove. she unlocked it, already dreading her choice. battery low. no messages. one missed call from her mom. anger boiled up and she threw her phone against the wall in rage screaming in frustration. the phone broke into three pieces as it fell to the floor.

anger kept rising. she looked frantically for the lighter and found it under a mug. sweet relief of nicotine. she took a drag, and went to the window. ever since she was a little girl, she loved to sit at the window and watch the world go by. and now, she watched the day pass and awaited the cover of night. in the quietude of the world, she found comfort. in a dark corner of the bar, she found peace. nothing satiated her like liquor. not reading a book, which she would restlessly throw to the floor in a few minutes. not cleaning her room, which would bring back memories that she kept suppressed. no. sleep and liquor. those were her friends. they dulled the pain like nothing else.

and the men. she smiled when she looked out. they would come expectantly to her place, and if they were lucky, she would be able to withhold the puke and they would haphazardly fumble under the sheets. if she was lucky, he would stay till morning. and then he would disappear.

they all leave in the end.

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