Chapter 2

R.E.M interrupted at four fucking a.m. by a muffled Kill-Bill whistle. He reached for his cell phone under the pillow. Even in his hash-hazed senses he knew it was her.

“Who the fuck?” he barked.

The scowl deepened when the caller didn’t speak up. He hung up & switched off the phone.

There is something warm & womblike about deep sleep after smoking up. He felt like one of those embryos from Matrix, floating in thick comforting molasses. And now he had been yanked out brutally.

Irked and sleepless, he lit up a cigarette. His mind wandered to their solo encounter. His lean angular frame appeared fidgety next to her poised suppleness. Her grave sobriety had been calming to his buzzing restless existence.

He looked at the switched off cell phone and dragged deep on the cigarette. He had changed his number when he moved from the city. But she seemed to creep stealthily in his life every once in a while. What did she want? What was there to say or do? 

*Posted for nasha.