ACHTUNG!
This is fiction, for your quiet, solitary, not-so-late-night enjoyment. Comments can be directed to dave at axismundisum dot com, though I expect none.

Pardon the shitty formatting.

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Yep. This is it.

There’s two beers in the fridge and a couple dozen books stacked against the wall. It’s not even ten o’clock. I

wish it was two or three; that way it’d feel less pathetic. No dice, though. It’s not even ten.

Guess I’ll drink a beer and read.


***

Where the fuck are my keys? Goddamn it, did I leave them at the bar? “Did I leave my keys at the bar?”

“No. Christ, Julia, we haven’t even been to the bar yet.”

“You’ve got booze on the brain, babe. Might want to lay off for a while.”

“Where the fuck are my keys, then?”

“We don’t know, Julia.”

I shouldn’t have worn these shoes. Every time I wear heels I twist my ankle or forget to put on eyeliner or

something. If it wasn’t for these shoes, I’d have my goddamned keys. They must still be at home. Shit, did I lock myself

out? “Did I lock them in my apartment?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither. Maybe. It’s fine. You can stay at my place and get your landlord to let you in tomorrow morning.”

Fuck that. “I’m going to run home and check.”

“Do you want to meet us at the bar? It’s almost ten already.”

Bitch. Telling me I drink too much, then getting desperate to make second happy hour. “Yeah, fine. I’ll be right

there.”

Where the fuck is my cell phone? Fuck these shoes.


***

I can’t believe that dude wouldn’t let sixteen cents slide. It I should’ve just stolen the cigarettes. They were

right there on the counter.

Yeah, right.


***

Seriously, how the hell is sitting on a balcony in the Alps wrapped in a blanket supposed to cure weird-ass

medical conditions? Jesus!

“Tony, have you read this book?”

“What book?”

“The one you lent me. It’s good, but the premise is ridiculous!”

“I think that’s the point.”

“So you thought it was kinda stupid too, huh?”

“Man, just read the book. I’m busy.”

Busy getting ready for a date, the bastard. I get this book and he gets a girl. Fuck it, though— he’s also got to

go to work tomorrow. I think I’m going to get some blankets and try out the “rest cure” while he’s answering phones.

Jesus.

I can’t believe I just said that.


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