Note to self: Happy Anniversary

She gently turned the key and pushed, trying not to make a sound, not to wake the neighbours.

Work was crazy that day. Three meetings, apart from the everyday truckload of shit she handled.

It was too late to switch on any lights. Besides, she knew her way around her house.

She walked straight to the digital clock that was flashing 1.38am and pushed a button. Time disappeared and a playlist showed up…she pushed two more buttons and Janis Joplin’s Summertime started to play.

Like clockwork, she went to the bar, poured herself some JD. That sound somehow playing with the sound of the guitar in the background. One desperate sip, she closed her eyes, half winced and swallowed.

Alcohol cleanses away the ruins of the day.

She walked to the middle of the room, took off her shoes, one heel at a time and took another sip when he woke up.

“What time is it?” he said, groping for a switch.

“Shh shh shh. Don’t.” She stretched out her hand in his direction. “Dance with me” she whispered. Walking up to her, he took her hand, made her do a little twirl, and pulled her close by the waist… jack between them.

*N-nothing’s gonna harm you now*

One year ago today, they danced to this song in front of their families.

He moved his hand to her hair, untied it. As her hair fell down to her shoulders and to the small of her back, the air around them smelled of fruity, herbal tea and cigarette smoke. She downed the whiskey and asked him to pour her another.

“Get me ice with it please” she said as he looked around for a glass for himself.

“You know, I had a meeting your side of town today.”

“Yeah”, he called out from the kitchen. “You should’ve called me. We could’ve done lunch”.

“It was last minute. But I did lunch. At Gianni’s. You been there?”

He’s waking up from what seems like a dream. His entire body’s in pain, his back damp and BB King’s playing softly on the stereo. ‘We did it on the floor again’, he thinks to himself.

He turns his head, still in pain, and he sees her. ‘Wow. She’s here. She didn’t run off to hog the bed’, he thinks. ‘Wait’.

She’s sitting on one of the dining table chairs turned backside front, looking down at him. She lights a cigarette. In that 3 second flicker of light, she looks beautiful - her hair, her lips, her red fingertips.

And click. Its gone.

“You didn’t get to hear about the rest of my day” she says, picking up her glass from the floor, taking a sip.

“I bumped into Jackie today”, she’s says, behind a cloud of smoke.

He realizes he’s still in his pajamas. ‘So did we do it?’ he thinks.

“You know, that friend of mine from college.”

The dampness is spreading.

“She said you work in the same building. And sometimes the two of you have lunch together at an Italian restaurant down the street.”

The dampness now reaches his feet.

“Oh, and you know, she had on a beautiful pair of earrings.” She takes a large sip. “ Just like the ones I lost.”

He realizes that the pain is originating from his side.

“Oh and guess what.” She lifts the cigarette dangling from her fingers to her lips,takes a long drag and exhales a large cone of smoke. 

“I finally found daddy’s gun today.”

He’s finding it hard to breathe now. Every attempt to inhale makes his body writhe in pain.

She finishes her last sip.

“Here, I’ll show you. Happy Anniversary, baby."

Note to self: Pick up a bottle of Jack at the dutyfree