Concessions

“Hey babe,” Adrian called out from the living room. “What do you wanna watch?” Adrian  hovered and slowly scanned the library of movies that rest upon the media shelves.

“Haven’t we gone through all the new movies we have,” Tula called back to him. Her back faced him as she placed the dishes back into the cabinets. Her chin lifted as she spoke and listened for his response.

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Collectible

Harris pressed softly against the half opened door.

“Mitchell,” he called softly into the dark. Harris had streaked across the lawn of his friend and struggled to calm his breath. He received fourteen voicemails from Mitchell that night. He stopped listening after the third one. 

“Mitchell,” he called out again. “It’s me. You okay in there?”

Harris ducked when he heard a loud metallic bang fall to the floor. He crept to the back room, unsure if there was a home invader in Mitchell’s house. Between the crack of the door, he saw Mitchell. But he was bumping into the shelves and furniture in the room. He appeared distant. 

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Julia & Josh

“Nice of you to come back,” Julia said in the corner of the sun room with her arms crossed. “Where were you?”

“Seeing what was left of my kitchen,” Christian said, dragging a chair behind him. The day had worn him down and bags hung under his eyes. 

“Oh? You weren’t asking him his side of the story first,” Julia snapped. 

“Does it matter,” Christian asked lazily. 

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Josh & Julia

“Sit down and shut up,” Christian yelled after he threw Josh down into a wooden chair. Josh’s shoe hovered in the air as he tried to balance himself and get back up again. Christian pointed him down until he relaxed.

“Look, I gotta catch a flight,” Josh pled.

“I said shut up!”

“Am I under arrest, officer,” Josh asked snidely.

Christian side eyed him. “Ha ha,” he answered dryly. “Just relax, all right,” he said with a reassuring hand. Anita entered the room with a knitted frown. “Where is she,” Christian asked her.

“She’s in the sun room,” Anita answered. 

“I don’t need to be here,” Josh said, fixing his slightly burnt collared dress shirt.

“Josh, I’m not going to tell you again,” Christian said with his palm extended to silence him.

“I’m not the one who screwed up,” Josh said, smoothing his wet singed hair back.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t set fire to my kitchen,” Christian roared. “Now,” he said in a calmer tone. “I could press charges. I could call the police. But I’m not going to do that. I want one simple thing. I want you to tell me what happened.”  Continue reading “Josh & Julia”