815 Butterfly Street - Une
815 Butterfly street.
As he walked up the stairs of his hard wood walled apartment, the door was ajar, all the lights lit and water running in the kitchen sink. Where's Justice?
"Putain."
He had just run away from a friend's house. Well, not really a friend but Joy's friend where they all hang out and smoke. A bowl, a hit, a joint, the occasional line especially today when her closest friend Carolina was in town for a performance at Catalina Bar and Grill. It's been a week since they broke up but since Carolina was here, they have all been spending time together during the past 3 days.
The first night was at one of those places he can't stand where the entrees are a morsel but the drinks are rubbing alcohol.
"Isn't he so cute? Look at him, so cute? I call him Cinnamon skin," she kept whispering to her childhood friend unaware that Pierre has a very keen sense of hearing which he learned from his dog Hummus. She kept on complementing him as the group sat together just in front of a DJ playing House Music.
The 2nd night they went to see a movie at the Nuart, some art-house flick which he could not stand. Little Dialogue, Black and White. Joy sat 4 seats away from him arm and arm with Carolina and his boyfriend, who actually lives in town as a Gaming consultant. 4 fucking seats away from him. The whole night, there were no words exchanged between them. She didn't even look at him at all.
The last night, they were at her friend's house, smoking: a bowl, a hit, a joint. It started out pretty well actually. Joy seemed so Happy right now, laughing and even being very flirtatious with him.
"Oh Cinnamon Skin," she whispered to his eyes completely high.
He almost wanted to take back breaking up with her over the phone.
"Bae, we can just be friends. You're leaving in a few months anyway, we can just start our transition into friendship."
That was a week ago. 7 days, 13 hours, 33 minutes, 12.5 seconds. Then he heard it.
"His dick smells." Silence.
Out of nowhere Joy decided to take back the night and give him a sucker fucking punch. Everyone pretended not to hear what she said.
"Y'all heard me, HIS DICK SMELLS..curds of cheese.
They smell like curds of cheese, dhioanlGjahldjpqwmASSFuckn;ljaepaecn laeie."
Silence.
" OH, let me play some Jason Mraz," the boyfriend who always diffused the situation when it got testy said, which was alot within those 5 months they were together. Carolina took Joy by the arm who is still yelling but also laughing at this point and walked outside the patio.
French Slip. Time to go he thought, and ran away from there.
Courir. If there's anything he IS good at...it's running away.
815 Butterfly Street. And now this?
"Putain."
As he walked up the stairs of his hard wood walled apartment, the door was ajar, all the lights lit and water running in the kitchen sink. Where's Justice?
"Putain."
He had just run away from a friend's house. Well, not really a friend but Joy's friend where they all hang out and smoke. A bowl, a hit, a joint, the occasional line especially today when her closest friend Carolina was in town for a performance at Catalina Bar and Grill. It's been a week since they broke up but since Carolina was here, they have all been spending time together during the past 3 days.
The first night was at one of those places he can't stand where the entrees are a morsel but the drinks are rubbing alcohol.
"Isn't he so cute? Look at him, so cute? I call him Cinnamon skin," she kept whispering to her childhood friend unaware that Pierre has a very keen sense of hearing which he learned from his dog Hummus. She kept on complementing him as the group sat together just in front of a DJ playing House Music.
The 2nd night they went to see a movie at the Nuart, some art-house flick which he could not stand. Little Dialogue, Black and White. Joy sat 4 seats away from him arm and arm with Carolina and his boyfriend, who actually lives in town as a Gaming consultant. 4 fucking seats away from him. The whole night, there were no words exchanged between them. She didn't even look at him at all.
The last night, they were at her friend's house, smoking: a bowl, a hit, a joint. It started out pretty well actually. Joy seemed so Happy right now, laughing and even being very flirtatious with him.
"Oh Cinnamon Skin," she whispered to his eyes completely high.
He almost wanted to take back breaking up with her over the phone.
"Bae, we can just be friends. You're leaving in a few months anyway, we can just start our transition into friendship."
That was a week ago. 7 days, 13 hours, 33 minutes, 12.5 seconds. Then he heard it.
"His dick smells." Silence.
Out of nowhere Joy decided to take back the night and give him a sucker fucking punch. Everyone pretended not to hear what she said.
"Y'all heard me, HIS DICK SMELLS..curds of cheese.
They smell like curds of cheese, dhioanlGjahldjpqwmASSFuckn;ljaepaecn laeie."
Silence.
" OH, let me play some Jason Mraz," the boyfriend who always diffused the situation when it got testy said, which was alot within those 5 months they were together. Carolina took Joy by the arm who is still yelling but also laughing at this point and walked outside the patio.
French Slip. Time to go he thought, and ran away from there.
Courir. If there's anything he IS good at...it's running away.
815 Butterfly Street. And now this?
"Putain."
posted by Giovanni Ortega at
4:51 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home