“ I don’t see any way out, love.”
She paused for a moment, an affectation of reflection, a moment of silence.
“We had a pretty good run.”
“Yes we did, smoked em right down to the butts.”
I paused too, I was thinking about the first time we fucked, the way she smelled, tasted, and this drop of sweat or something sweeter hung in her short hair.
I kissed her, soft but with an intensity, a longing, pushing years of passion into a single kiss of contrition, anything more or less would have been attrition.
“Smoked em down to the butts.”
Whatever it was we weren’t listening to on the radio died when I cut the engine. My hand was slick on the door handle.
“You want me to come with you? I will you know, it’d be easier on me than wondering.”
“Honey, it’d be harder on me. I need to know you’re safe.”
She kissed me hard, like the difference between See ya and Farewell.
I handed her the keys, it felt like a solemn ceremony. One long breath and I went without looking back. I walked bold and confident, I know because I told myself over again and over to walk bold and confident, like a mantra or like that last thing and atheist says before he goes into that foxhole. I walked like that right onto the killing floor.
“Good morning class. My Name is Mr. Jones …” the chalk squeaked on the board and something growled.
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