The Cleanway
Page 22
I stared at her, the empty sadness of the prior moment lost to surprise.
“Why did you get out?”
“You offered, didn’t you?” She shivered and then leaned against my chest. “Let’s go inside.”
Through the doors. Up the elevator. Into my apartment.
We sat on the couch. City lights gleamed out the frosted window.
“I want things to be normal. I mean, between us.”
She touched me. “Is this normal?” she asked.
“Yeah…” My mouth went dry. I reached for her shoulder.
“But you’re not sure?”
“Right,” I said. “I don’t think you are— I’m sorry. I mean, you’re not normal.”
She pressed against my chest, warm, fragrant, face close to mine. “Neither are you, Jeth.” She rubbed a hand along my neck, making the stubble there prickle against my skin. My chin tilted up.
The dim light veins in the ceiling made a spiral. Funny how I had never noticed before. Before I found her again. Before everything started changing.
She tilted her head back. “Jeth, what are you thinking about?”
“If I’m not normal, and you’re not normal…we could try being not normal together, you know?”
She stroked my cheek. “I like the way you think.”
Her other hand found mine. We held onto each other. Not knowing what would happen next, I was sure of one thing. I wanted to be with her for it. Forget normal. Forget ordinary. The night brought brightness in more ways than one.
Did you enjoy this story? Subscribe to hear about new releases.
http://www.timniederriter.com/list/
Tim Niederriter has been reading fantasy and science fiction since he was five years old when his parents introduced him to the hobbit.
These days he writes stories in science fiction, fantasy, and combinations of the two for himself and for others. When not writing fiction or losing at games, he maintains a blog at dwellerofthedeep.wordpress.com, and you can find his personal website at timniederriter.com. He also talks on the podcasts “Of Mooks and Monsters,” and “Alive After Reading” available at mentalcellarpublications.com and wherever podcasts are downloaded.
He lives in Minnesota for as long as the corn decides not to eat him.