10-02-2020, 10:36 PM
1:58am... 1:59am... 2:00am.
Smiling to myself, I allow an extra few minutes to pass (we've never been sticklers for timeliness) as I finish the scene in my latest binge-worthy Netflix show. The laptop whirrs its displeasure at this, warm as it is against the gunmetal gray bed sheets I rest upon; There, there, noble compatriot, I think to it, giving it a little pat on its smooth end. You will live to see another day.
I heave to. On my feet, I slip on an oversized hoodie Sol had gotten for me god knows how long ago; on its black canvas, the outline of a white finger snaps, a heart above the action. A gift from back when we dated and worn almost through now. High-waisted white bottoms (sweatpants, of course), some lacy bits beneath, a black ballcap and a pair of spotless white sneakers complete the look. Satisfied with my nightlook, I dash out of our bedroom with keys, wallet, and phone in pocket, through the living room, and out the door of our high-rise apartment.
Down the elevator and into the parking garage. There, I pop into the Mercedes.
On my way, lover.
Sent 2:11
The streets flash by without interest. Against the steering wheel, the white gold of my wedding ring tap tap taps to the rhythm of the indie-rock music I put on. Shit, did I? But no, I didn't forget; with a smirk, I tilt my head to look into the hollow console which rests before the gear stick and am pleased to see that, yes, Sol's preferred pack of cigarettes lay there. Mine, too. Habits often merge in marriage, I've learned.
Around 2:36am, I pull up outside of the venue whose address Sol sent to me earlier today. The place lights up the dark sky above like a beacon. A pretty high dive.
Here babe, out front.
Sent 2:37
Snagging the keys, I slip from the vehicle and walk to sit against the passenger door, arms crossed and hair blowing into my mouth as I await the arrival of my drop dead gorgeous wife.
Smiling to myself, I allow an extra few minutes to pass (we've never been sticklers for timeliness) as I finish the scene in my latest binge-worthy Netflix show. The laptop whirrs its displeasure at this, warm as it is against the gunmetal gray bed sheets I rest upon; There, there, noble compatriot, I think to it, giving it a little pat on its smooth end. You will live to see another day.
I heave to. On my feet, I slip on an oversized hoodie Sol had gotten for me god knows how long ago; on its black canvas, the outline of a white finger snaps, a heart above the action. A gift from back when we dated and worn almost through now. High-waisted white bottoms (sweatpants, of course), some lacy bits beneath, a black ballcap and a pair of spotless white sneakers complete the look. Satisfied with my nightlook, I dash out of our bedroom with keys, wallet, and phone in pocket, through the living room, and out the door of our high-rise apartment.
Down the elevator and into the parking garage. There, I pop into the Mercedes.
On my way, lover.
Sent 2:11
The streets flash by without interest. Against the steering wheel, the white gold of my wedding ring tap tap taps to the rhythm of the indie-rock music I put on. Shit, did I? But no, I didn't forget; with a smirk, I tilt my head to look into the hollow console which rests before the gear stick and am pleased to see that, yes, Sol's preferred pack of cigarettes lay there. Mine, too. Habits often merge in marriage, I've learned.
Around 2:36am, I pull up outside of the venue whose address Sol sent to me earlier today. The place lights up the dark sky above like a beacon. A pretty high dive.
Here babe, out front.
Sent 2:37
Snagging the keys, I slip from the vehicle and walk to sit against the passenger door, arms crossed and hair blowing into my mouth as I await the arrival of my drop dead gorgeous wife.
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
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