you look like hell

     

franklin and third (part one)

     i slept on the couch, in the living room. i forgot my gym shorts in the car so i just slept in boxer-briefs. i didn't think she'd care. i had a blanket anyway. "this one's lighter." she said. so i took that one (because nights in the cities are warm in july and people leave their windows facing the streets open sometimes). 

     i was woken up around eight by creaky footsteps taken on the old wood floor followed by the sound of the front door shutting. i was momentarily slightly extremely concerned for three reasons. 

     the first being i thought i may have missed my alarm somehow and overslept and the sound of the door closing had been the result of her leaving for work. she was scheduled at eleven (at the bank). i was scheduled at ten (at the warehouse). if the door closing was her leaving, i was late. 

     the second being if she had in fact left for the day, i was now the only other person in her apartment apart from her roommate, her cousin, who i didn't know all that well. awkward time maybe. 

     the third being if i had in fact overslept and she had rushed out the door in a hurry, possibly running late herself, i had missed my opportunity to say "i hope you have a good day." with the by now expected embrace (not to mention "good morning"). 

     i groggily sat up and stretched forward to grab my almost dead phone off the end table near my feet. the digital display read "8:12 am." relief. (not late). exhaustion. (six hours of sleep). 

     i sat on the couch just waking up, not moving much. after a few minutes of that i headed to the bathroom. the bedroom door (next to the bathroom door) was open. she was sleeping still, laid out peacefully under several covers. freeze baby. 

     her roommate had left earlier. i realized that, still waking up, and was relieved. 

     i put on an old blue stripedy t-shirt and went to the kitchen, found the folgers, and began the not at all difficult nor complicated process of brewing a pot of coffee. 

     poking around the still unfamiliar cupboards for a few clanky seconds led me to a pair of coffee mugs. one purple, one army olive green. she was getting the purple one i decided. 

    after a couple minutes, the pot was more or less full, full enough anyway. i went back to the bedroom across that old floor so mercilessly creaky. still sleeping. i left the purple mug on her night stand on top of a book called the Bible next to her clock and went back to the couch.