my pantry in which the empty shelves looked at me with sunken eyes and shrugged, I retreated to my bedroom, threw on some slacks and a sweater, grabbed my trusty coat, and headed for the door. From there I embarked upon an epic quest, told in three sweeping acts. Act one, in which the intrepid hero snagged coffee at a mobile cart outside his apartment, filling his veins with strength and courage and a desire to move. Act two, in which the hero journeyed into the great unknown, travelling four whole blocks to the doors of the strange and mysterious Fresh Market Bodega. And finally, the stirring third act, in which the hero, richer in knowledge, lighter in riches, and burdened by heavy sacks of groceries, trudged back to his apartment.
I dusted my hands as I stacked the last of the non-perishables on my shelves, but as my valiant inner monologue faded, a new voice emerged. It callously reminded me that I’d just lost my ex-partner to a ruthless killer, that my current partner and longtime crush was in search of said ruthless killer, without me at her back no less, and that no amount of heroic fantasies could shelve said grim thoughts for long.
Shelve… At least the voice in my head had a sense of humor.
I began to pace, as I found it helped with my thoughts, but after I noticed a circular tread pattern forming in my rug, I headed back out the door and onto the snow-spattered streets of New Welwic. I gave my feet free rein once more, but after they started carrying me in the direction of Jjade’s, I had to stop and reconsider.
I couldn’t go back to the bar. Not only was it closed at this hour, but I’d made a pledge not to drink, at least not to excess while in my fragile emotional state. But I needed something to occupy my mind. Something physical, ideally. The walking seemed to be doing the trick, but what else could I do? Hire myself out as day labor to a moving firm? Double dipping on pay would be nice, but what if I threw out my back? I could engage in calisthenics in the park, but that would involve extensive exposure to the elements, and my nose was already dripping. Or…
I headed west into the newer portions of the city, into neighborhoods where the trees that grew from the sidewalks remembered the days their friends had been chopped down and covered with concrete. After about twenty minutes of walking, during which I suffered a momentary and unsettling bout of the willies, I found the building I’d been searching for. I hopped up to the third floor, walked over to condo 3F, and knocked.
After thirty seconds, a beautiful blonde answered the door, dressed in a tight maroon turtleneck that accentuated her ample curves. She brushed a hand over her ear to tuck her ashen locks into place and blinked, her round, hazel doe eyes neither warm nor cool.
“Jake,” she said. “What brings you here?”
There was a time not long ago when seeing her standing there, with her big beautiful eyes and other big beautiful assets, would’ve brought me to my knees or at least tugged on my heartstrings—if not other body parts that could’ve been incited into movement. But now? I felt neither affection nor ill-will. At best I felt a wistful longing. An appreciation for the way things once were but would never be again.
“Good to see you, too, Nicole. How are you doing?”
“Fine,” she said as she glanced up and down the corridor. “What about you? What’s wrong?”
“See, now why would you assume anything is wrong?” I followed her glance. She hadn’t seen anyone, had she? “Aren’t I allowed to pay a visit to my ex-wife and my boy every now and then without being given the third degree?”
“Oh, you’re entitled to,” said Nicole. “But that doesn’t mean you ever do . Which I why I assumed something’s wrong. Not to mention the fact that you should be at work right now. Don’t tell me you got fired.”
“Never fear,” I said. “Your alimony payments are safe.”
“So you’re not suspended
I dusted my hands as I stacked the last of the non-perishables on my shelves, but as my valiant inner monologue faded, a new voice emerged. It callously reminded me that I’d just lost my ex-partner to a ruthless killer, that my current partner and longtime crush was in search of said ruthless killer, without me at her back no less, and that no amount of heroic fantasies could shelve said grim thoughts for long.
Shelve… At least the voice in my head had a sense of humor.
I began to pace, as I found it helped with my thoughts, but after I noticed a circular tread pattern forming in my rug, I headed back out the door and onto the snow-spattered streets of New Welwic. I gave my feet free rein once more, but after they started carrying me in the direction of Jjade’s, I had to stop and reconsider.
I couldn’t go back to the bar. Not only was it closed at this hour, but I’d made a pledge not to drink, at least not to excess while in my fragile emotional state. But I needed something to occupy my mind. Something physical, ideally. The walking seemed to be doing the trick, but what else could I do? Hire myself out as day labor to a moving firm? Double dipping on pay would be nice, but what if I threw out my back? I could engage in calisthenics in the park, but that would involve extensive exposure to the elements, and my nose was already dripping. Or…
I headed west into the newer portions of the city, into neighborhoods where the trees that grew from the sidewalks remembered the days their friends had been chopped down and covered with concrete. After about twenty minutes of walking, during which I suffered a momentary and unsettling bout of the willies, I found the building I’d been searching for. I hopped up to the third floor, walked over to condo 3F, and knocked.
After thirty seconds, a beautiful blonde answered the door, dressed in a tight maroon turtleneck that accentuated her ample curves. She brushed a hand over her ear to tuck her ashen locks into place and blinked, her round, hazel doe eyes neither warm nor cool.
“Jake,” she said. “What brings you here?”
There was a time not long ago when seeing her standing there, with her big beautiful eyes and other big beautiful assets, would’ve brought me to my knees or at least tugged on my heartstrings—if not other body parts that could’ve been incited into movement. But now? I felt neither affection nor ill-will. At best I felt a wistful longing. An appreciation for the way things once were but would never be again.
“Good to see you, too, Nicole. How are you doing?”
“Fine,” she said as she glanced up and down the corridor. “What about you? What’s wrong?”
“See, now why would you assume anything is wrong?” I followed her glance. She hadn’t seen anyone, had she? “Aren’t I allowed to pay a visit to my ex-wife and my boy every now and then without being given the third degree?”
“Oh, you’re entitled to,” said Nicole. “But that doesn’t mean you ever do . Which I why I assumed something’s wrong. Not to mention the fact that you should be at work right now. Don’t tell me you got fired.”
“Never fear,” I said. “Your alimony payments are safe.”
“So you’re not suspended
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