Chapter 8e
I poured myself another beer and drank it in pleasant silence. I drank another after that then took in my surroundings one more time. Since everybody else had gone home and the bar had closed without my noticing, I decided it would probably be best for me to head home as well. The night was clear and cold. I wasn't drunk but felt that I should be. I lit a cigar and started the short walk home.
The things that rolled through my mind weren't my drinking buddies or what year it was or even having sex with her. Although that's worth thinking about. I was thinking about odd things, though, things that didn't make any sense. I was lost in some science-fiction parody of my life, thinking about the various ways I could be living instead of here in this lonely spot.
For a moment I considered moving again. It had been a while since I gave it any real consideration. I didn't know anybody anywhere else so the task seemed a little daunting but maybe it was time for something extreme to jolt me back to life.
Not yet, though, I still hadn't even made it home yet. She would be waiting for me at home to comfort me, to ease me back into comfort. She would always be there. If I left, though? No, maybe leaving is not the best course of action.
She was on the couch doing explicitly sexual things with Cindy when I got home. They stopped when I walked in and she said, "Hi, honey, we were just talking about all the terrible betrayals of trust you've given us both over the years."
I smiled, said hi, and went to bed. I could hear them continuing without me. I go to bed sometimes and perhaps I sleep but I don't seem to dream. I never dreamed too much, anyway, so I haven't given it much thought but, really, why is that? I lay down, close my eyes, maybe only blink them, and I'm back awake.
I could still hear them going at it and, being more well rested, opted to join them. It was fun but pointless. No different from anything else in that regard, I suppose. When we finished Cindy left and she stayed.
I asked her, "Any chance you know what year it is?" She raised a finger to my lips and shushed me. This isn't the time to worry about these things, the shush told me, this is the time to worry about the woman who has placed herself at the forefront of your consciousness. Was that what she had done? Maybe the booze had hit me harder than I thought.