There was a grunt and whispered cursing. Stomping on wooden stair that echoed off damp concrete walls. Amy came through the door, carrying two cans of beans and corn, crossing from the basement to the living room. I lay on…
“Doughnut?” he said. Melting chocolate pooled in his palm like spilled oil.
The ocean thrummed in my ear, Amy’s breathing a soft breeze blowing tall grasses along the dunes.
The promise I’d made Chance stuck to my skin as if it was covered in tacks and though he could find me whenever he wanted, I still tried to avoid him if possible.
Chance took me to a café with wood-paneled walls and though I’d never set foot on the concrete floor, the hushed vertigo of memory swirled around me.
The days passed, because that is what days do.
Delilah sat in the backseat, twirling her hair around her finger while Chance whistled along with the radio.
We trailed Chance through the hallway and down to the kitchen, a two-headed snake following the charmer’s horn.