“I love you.” I say and I bite his cheek, Jamie just looks at me and starts crying. I think I hear clicks at the door.
Jamie has an alibi, but I don’t, so he tells me to head of into a door, this door in the wall, this room between the houses where he puts my desk and I go there on the rug and I smile at the markers and the food he brought in and I feel the smell of glue and how the hours pass, even if I ask him to pass the sugar for my second and third cup of tea as I think of his cock.
I pull the rug over me, as I sit in the room’s chair and it is cozy with his randomly chosen books, which I poke with my boot, before taking the boot out and I like home, because I am a gift, which Jamie is going to unwrap.
I hear the people outside, all care about Kate and not my new ring.
