Stranger
“Almost stark. Plain white walls and bare wooden floors in one main room with a small bathroom and bedroom tucked off to the back. His furniture looked battered, but his sink, unlike my own, wasn’t piled high with dishes and his garbage pail didn’t overflow with trash.
Jack hung his jacket and helmet on a set of large metal pegs drilled into the wall and tossed his keys into a glass dish on a small table by the door. He gestured. “This is my place.”
“It’s nice.” I looked around, noting the art on the walls. “Did you draw those?”
“Some of them. Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Some are from friends.”
I was no expert, but even I could see he had talent. “You’re good.”
He put his arms around me from behind, pulling me back against him. “Yeah, I think you told me that before.”
I mock elbowed him. “I meant your pictures.”
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