the carpet.
He couldn’t
remember how the clothes ended up where they were, or bringing any food in
there. He certainly couldn’t remember destroying the large mirror. The debris
and stains of whiskey on the carpet claimed he probably had.
How the hell
did I long to go back here? It’s an enormous fucking tomb.
Laura’s place
was small but had an abundance of books and DVD’s, smelled of food and
cinnamon, and above all, it had her .
Get a grip.
You’re a grown man and you have to be able to cope with your own house.
He drew a deep
breath and crouched down to pick up the glass. Maybe he should refurnish. Anne
was gone, and he could change whatever he wanted.No one would yell at
him for taking all the clashing colors and patterns down. He no longer had a
reason to live in a room that resembled a candy factory.
Laura won’t
mind.
The last
thought stopped him dead in his tracks.
Why would
she mind? She doesn’t live here, she’s never even been here.
He shook his
head at himself and continued cleaning.
He did a good
job with tidying up, and it was still just afternoon when he decided to get on
with his project of fixing up the house. When thumbing through the phonebook,
looking for some kind of profession that might make his bedroom less abhorrent,
he automatically poured himself a large drink.
The first
handyman didn’t answer, and his fingers wandered over the keypad, dialing a
friend.
“Hey Joel.
Yeah, I’m back. What’s up?”
Chapter Seven
Marc opened his
eyes to much too bright sunlight flooding in through a broken window. He lay on
a floor in an unknown room, and something made an absurd amount of noise.
Oh, the
phone.
He struggled to
get the cursed thing out of his pocket and squinted at the display before
turning it off.
I think my
fucking head is about to explode. Where the hell am I?
Joel slept
stark naked on a sofa and two girls rested in each other’s arms under a table.
A gray cat walked around, sniffing everything.
If you turn
into a dinosaur I’ll know you’re a hallucination. C’mon T-Rex, I dare you.
Lifting his
head from the floor and glancing down his own body didn’t impress him. He had
some clothes on, but was dirty and smelled, and when he ran a hand over his
face he felt a beard. Not just stubble, but a decent beard.
How long
have I been gone?
Music streamed
in from an adjacent room. Turning his head seemed like a superhuman feat and he
had to squint at the light to see. A skinny, naked girl swayed slowly to her
own rhythm, smoking a crack pipe.
Laura’s voice
echoed in his head, imaginary, but still giving good advice.
“Go home, Marc.
Don’t talk to anyone, just get off the floor right now and go home. Get out of
this house.”
Rising to his
feet did not work well.
The world spun
and his legs were spongy.
Laura’s
illusory voice coached him.
“You can do it.
If you can’t walk, crawl. C’mon Marc, get up. Get moving.”
He supported
himself on the walls and furniture, and it took a long time to locate the front
door.
Behind him,
Joel called out. “Marc, where the fuck are you going?”
Laura’s voice
in his head was stronger, insistent.
“Don’t stop.
Don’t look back. Keep going forward.”
“Marc!”
“ Don’t
listen. Walk out of the house.”
He staggered
out the front door and shielded his eyes from blinding sunshine.
What am I, a
fucking vampire? Feels like Imma catch fire.
All the houses
looked exactly the same.
Great. I’m
stuck somewhere in suburbia. This could be anywhere. I don’t even know what
country I’m in.
Laura’s voice
in his head was firm.
“Keep going
forward, away from here. Call a taxi or call a friend, just don’t stop moving.”
Wonder of all
wonders, a cab sat in one of the driveways, and the driver helped an old lady
into the house. Marc tried to jog, but the effort only rewarded him with a fit
of coughing.
“Hey! Wait up,
I need a ride.”
Where’s my
wallet?
Patting down
his pockets
He couldn’t
remember how the clothes ended up where they were, or bringing any food in
there. He certainly couldn’t remember destroying the large mirror. The debris
and stains of whiskey on the carpet claimed he probably had.
How the hell
did I long to go back here? It’s an enormous fucking tomb.
Laura’s place
was small but had an abundance of books and DVD’s, smelled of food and
cinnamon, and above all, it had her .
Get a grip.
You’re a grown man and you have to be able to cope with your own house.
He drew a deep
breath and crouched down to pick up the glass. Maybe he should refurnish. Anne
was gone, and he could change whatever he wanted.No one would yell at
him for taking all the clashing colors and patterns down. He no longer had a
reason to live in a room that resembled a candy factory.
Laura won’t
mind.
The last
thought stopped him dead in his tracks.
Why would
she mind? She doesn’t live here, she’s never even been here.
He shook his
head at himself and continued cleaning.
He did a good
job with tidying up, and it was still just afternoon when he decided to get on
with his project of fixing up the house. When thumbing through the phonebook,
looking for some kind of profession that might make his bedroom less abhorrent,
he automatically poured himself a large drink.
The first
handyman didn’t answer, and his fingers wandered over the keypad, dialing a
friend.
“Hey Joel.
Yeah, I’m back. What’s up?”
Chapter Seven
Marc opened his
eyes to much too bright sunlight flooding in through a broken window. He lay on
a floor in an unknown room, and something made an absurd amount of noise.
Oh, the
phone.
He struggled to
get the cursed thing out of his pocket and squinted at the display before
turning it off.
I think my
fucking head is about to explode. Where the hell am I?
Joel slept
stark naked on a sofa and two girls rested in each other’s arms under a table.
A gray cat walked around, sniffing everything.
If you turn
into a dinosaur I’ll know you’re a hallucination. C’mon T-Rex, I dare you.
Lifting his
head from the floor and glancing down his own body didn’t impress him. He had
some clothes on, but was dirty and smelled, and when he ran a hand over his
face he felt a beard. Not just stubble, but a decent beard.
How long
have I been gone?
Music streamed
in from an adjacent room. Turning his head seemed like a superhuman feat and he
had to squint at the light to see. A skinny, naked girl swayed slowly to her
own rhythm, smoking a crack pipe.
Laura’s voice
echoed in his head, imaginary, but still giving good advice.
“Go home, Marc.
Don’t talk to anyone, just get off the floor right now and go home. Get out of
this house.”
Rising to his
feet did not work well.
The world spun
and his legs were spongy.
Laura’s
illusory voice coached him.
“You can do it.
If you can’t walk, crawl. C’mon Marc, get up. Get moving.”
He supported
himself on the walls and furniture, and it took a long time to locate the front
door.
Behind him,
Joel called out. “Marc, where the fuck are you going?”
Laura’s voice
in his head was stronger, insistent.
“Don’t stop.
Don’t look back. Keep going forward.”
“Marc!”
“ Don’t
listen. Walk out of the house.”
He staggered
out the front door and shielded his eyes from blinding sunshine.
What am I, a
fucking vampire? Feels like Imma catch fire.
All the houses
looked exactly the same.
Great. I’m
stuck somewhere in suburbia. This could be anywhere. I don’t even know what
country I’m in.
Laura’s voice
in his head was firm.
“Keep going
forward, away from here. Call a taxi or call a friend, just don’t stop moving.”
Wonder of all
wonders, a cab sat in one of the driveways, and the driver helped an old lady
into the house. Marc tried to jog, but the effort only rewarded him with a fit
of coughing.
“Hey! Wait up,
I need a ride.”
Where’s my
wallet?
Patting down
his pockets
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