Joanie and Tim go over. I just watch them standing over the body, talking. And after the shock wears off everything just seems so normal. Someone ligh...s up a cigarette. They start talking about football. Fucking football. And I realize how quickly all this became ordinary. Weed and booze. Blood and glass. Guns and murder. And I hear the TV and the radio from the other side of the wall and I want to scream at those assholes to turn it down, and realize it’s my own apartment. My radio, my TV. Absentmindedly he registered the soft alto of her voice, crooning throatily in a minor key. I’ve never had a singer before. He took another sip of his coffee, realizing belatedly that he’d finished it off. He put the cup down on the vanity quietly, not wanting to break the spell. Michele rinsed the cloth, re-lathered it and turned away from Gene. She lifted her foot up and rested it on the edge of the tub, bending over. Her bottom pressed against the glass and Gene’s breath caught in his. “Don’t forget my hockey bag.” Joanne smiled at Rebecca, who smiled back, watching the tall young man reluctantly remove the final bag from the back seat of the car.“I managed to get everything you asked for, sweetie.” Rebecca turned and headed down her small hallway and into her comfortable living room.Joanne followed.“Thanks, Becky. I’ve managed to pick up a few things too.” The smile spread wide across her face and she walked over to the older woman before hugging her once more.“So good to. He practically ran into the auction house and was immediately met by reception. After checking in he entered the large crowd surrounding the auction block. The first few slaves displayed did not interest Tommy. They were male and had obviously been owned before showing signs of punishment and frailty. He had been here most the day and was starting to fear he would leave empty handed. Then the auctioneer announced the last item for sale. A rare jewell for this small auction house a previously.
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