Sunday Morning: a Damaged Novella
“I studied it all evening, wondering if I should tempt his generosity by hanging out at his place.
Fuck it, I decided. He offered. He gave me the key.
Whatever happened next would happen.
On the third floor of a four-story building, I discovered a nicer apartment than I expected. Not fancy by any means but a wall of windows allowed in a lot of sunlight to the large living room. I shut the door behind me and locked it out of habit. Walking slowly, I took in the scent of the place. I recognized Kirk’s cologne. Nothing fancy but like the apartment, I found it impressive. Everything about Kirk interested me.
A folded newspaper rested on the table, and a large TV took up one corner in the room. The couch didn’t look new as much as unused.
My wannabe biker boyfriend spent most of his time at the strip club. Resting on the soft leather couch, I thought he was nuts not to spend all of his time in this homey place.
I stood up and walked to a galley-style kitchen where I poured myself a glass of water.
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