Noting the dark turn of his thoughts, Chris reasoned with himself: Comstock still existed. He was somewhere right now—fucking her, no doubt. Inevitably they would reappear and reclaim the suitcase. By this time tomorrow, the loose ends of the story would all be tied up—likely with laughter, possibly with newfound intimacy and burgeoning friendship. That’s how it went for Enabling Sidekicks, Chris knew from experience.
At last, out of sheer exhaustion, he dragged the suitcase across the street and turned into the alley, where the streetlight didn’t reach. Sheltered by the dark, he leaned against a wall and let himself slide to the pavement. God, it felt good to sit down. He turned the suitcase on its side and draped himself over it, letting the hard plastic take his weight. He had a clear view of SweetSpot’s entrance and would know the instant Comstock arrived. But the longer Chris waited, eyes fixed to the sliding glass doors that occasionally opened to accept or disgorge an employee roughly interchangeable with himself, the more the gleaming interior beyond those doors began to look like an alien place. Chris had been banished, or had banished himself. I’m tired of my history. He would never go back.
i ≠ （a, b, c…）
i ←→ （a, b, c…）
i
The night was filled with sounds of foghorns. Chris had heard they weren’t necessary for ships anymore, just a nod to nostalgia. A stockblock. He shut his eyes and tried to decide, from the pattern of tones, whether the sounds were communicative or merely decorative. He wanted them to be real! With his ears thus attuned, he began to perceive faint movements around him, murmurs and sighs and small adjustments at close range. He snapped open his eyes. Now that his vision had adjusted to the alley’s darkness, he saw that it was lined with dozens of dozing bodies draped against the walls, singly and in pairs, a few sprawled across the pavement as if they had fallen there or been dropped. An initial clutch of fear soon eased, and Chris relaxed into the company of his new companions. Their faces were reposed in expressions of absolute peace. He tipped back his head to look at the sky, its torn beauty rinsed and salved by fog, and imagined he was seeing their opioid dreams rising into heaven.
DROP
The Perimeter: After
When I really need to cry my guts out I go in the Ladies Locker Room which is empty on weekdays because the Tennis Moms are already playing tennis and the Golf Moms are playing golf and the Moms With Little Children can’t bring them inside the Ladies Locker Room because kids have to be thirteen so this is my first summer of being old enough and something about this place calms me down, maybe the soft carpeting or so many lotions and creams by the mirrors or maybe it’s the sound, like someone humming just one note, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm that helps me deal with the fact that Stella my best friend is DROPPING ME AGAIN, this has been going on since fourth grade because the only way not to be dropped by Stella is to act like you don’t care and I DO CARE, it’s too late to find new friends, the other groups don’t want me because Stella is mean and I’ve been mean trying to stay her friend and just BE POPULAR and BE ON TOP which is the only way not to live in constant danger of what is going on behind your back such as just now at the Snack Shack I was waiting with Stella and Iona for grilled cheese sandwiches and Chris Salazar and Colin Bingham walked by and Stella and Iona SMILED AT EACH OTHER SECRETLY and when I tried to share that smile they both looked away TRYING NOT TO LAUGH which means Stella is HAVING PRIVATE FACEBOOK CHATS WITHOUT ME about Chris Salazar who she has liked forever.
Before, when my family lived next door to the Salazars, Stella was like Molly, do you ever see Chris Salazar inside his house? and I was like No there are trees in between our houses and she was like Well, do you know where his room is? and for some reason I was like No, but I did know from a cocktail party I went to Before, when we lived next door. Chris’s room faces the front and there’s a green lamp in his window and now sometimes I walk Biscuit our new Welsh Corgi past our old house at night where we don’t live anymore because Mom and Dad are Divorced, and I look for that green lamp to be turned on and then I know Chris Salazar is awake and I might be in love with him too.
After Stella and Iona and I got our grilled cheese sandwiches we were carrying them to the Herb Garden which is where Stella likes to eat and I stopped to fix my sandal and Stella and Iona JUST KEPT WALKING AND DID NOT WAIT FOR ME and when I stood up they were already far away and I would’ve had to run to catch up with them which is hard to do carrying a grilled cheese sandwich, and I knew they’d be like Oh. Hi Molly, not wanting me there, so I went the other way to the Ladies Locker Room to cry.