One Room (part 3)

I could see into the cab when she pulled up. She was still On. Stiffness in her jaw, the way she stared straight ahead past the cabbie. Shades were up high. She was still processing, going over the kill piece by piece. We all do, the good ones anyway. Replay the hit over and over right after completion to look for mistakes.

Makes the next one go smoother.

By the time she'd stepped from the cab and spotted me It was Off.

She smiled and sat down behind her coffee and started sipping.

"How'd it go?"

"good. Easy. This is till warm."

"Had them re-heat it a few minutes ago."

"Always thinking." She grinned, tight-lipped, and set the cup back down."How many have you had while waiting?"

"One my second one." I took a sip.

"Got any smokes?" She set her gun-sized handbag down on the table and sipped more coffee.

"There's a machine inside. Want me to grab you some?"



"I'll pick from yours."

"Then I better head in and grab a fresh one." I stood up, cracked my back and walked inside the cafe with her smiling after me. From a distance you'd think we were a normal couple.

The waitress taking care of me grinned and waved from the end of the counter. "My shift's over. A new girl, Katey, will be taking over for me, 'kay?"

I nodded and waved back while pulling the knob for Newports. The machine clanked and dropped my pack indignantly into the curved tray.

Katey. I smacked the pack against my palm and headed back to Mind.

I lit hers first before we sat back and dove headfirst into chit chat.

Always starts the same. She tells me about a funny or difficult gig, I do the same, all the while trying to out do one another without being too obvious. Competitive fuck buddies. We chew through half a pack in two hours between laughs and advice and admonishments for sloppy kills and cavalier behavior during assignments. Somehow we work our way into arguing about hi definition sets and which is better and why men need huge flat screens and all that. Movies come up, recent ones and ones we love, then we argue about directors and overpaid, undeserving actors. We skim across political events knowing full well the media sprinkles bullshit all over their reports based on which corporation is pulling their strings. both of us have killed for one news station or another in our day. Then the classic Who Knows What's Hottest In Music Battle starts up and rages for another hour solid.

Three coffees into it I have to hit the restroom and marvel at how well she can hold her water.

The stall graffiti is standard gibberish promoting one band over another and insulting someone's mother or wife in the process. Turns out all mother's and wives involved in band promotion via bathroom stalls suck cock quite often. Amazing they can get any work done.

Back at the table Mind is lighting up another one my my smokes.I';m down to six.

"I'll buy you another pack." She grunts and puffs.

"I didn't say anything." My seat's still warm.

"I saw you check the pack."

"I didn't even touch it."

"Whatever. Like I don't know how fast you eyeball your surroundings. Please." She makes a circle in the air with the tip of her cigarette and a dirty bluish gray halo floats over her head.

I finish the rest of my coffee and silently swear three is my limit for the day.

"I'm sorry, Ven." She looks genuinely apologetic. That worries me.

"About what?" Then she gets all blurry. I glance at my coffee cup and the rest fills itself in. "Goddamnit Mind...again?"

Everything starts to darken. I feel light and hot and something heavy presses against my cheek. I think its the floor.

"I said I was sorry." But it sounds like a bear's saying it from a hundred miles away.

Darker now.

No wonder we keep breaking up.

Bitch.