wish you nɇvɇɍ looked at me that way
Alice stole her neighbor's newspaper all the time. It was truly a wonder he had not cancelled the subscription after all these months, but she wasn't about to complain aloud, lest she jinx herself. She usually didn't bother reading any of the print. No point in reading old news. It smelled like lies anyway. But it did at least make good insulation.
Each page got wadded and pushed into the chain link fence-like holes of the bed frame she had leaned against the window of her small apartment. The sight reminded her of a bee in a hive, working at making honey to survive, working at keeping the draft out to survive. Sometimes when she stopped to suck in the vapors from her hookah, she would take a moment to read bits and pieces of a comic or article before shoving it in. She had a particular fondness of mocking hometown heroes or obituaries. Every once in a while a headline would catch her eye, but usually it was something boring. Councilman dead after attack. Stupid. Killer still on the loose. Whatever.
If this town should be afraid of anyone, it should be her when she starts sleepwalking. Then they can make headlines about how a body was reduced to a bloody mess on the pavement. Ah...Fucker Stab Wound Fucked. That was a pretty good one.
She reached for the bottle of vodka at her side, only to find it miserably empty. Damnit. Immediately she jumped up from her position on the floor and grabbed her bag and some sunglasses. It didn't matter it was after midnight. No one needed to know just how high she was. Her bloodshot eyes were no ones business.
Down the flights of stairs, through the door to the complex, not bothering with finding her keys because the damn place was never locked anyway. Out into the cold, cold night, stumbling only once on her way to the liquor store down the street. She couldn't remember if she had even closed the door to her apartment before leaving. No matter. Not like anyone was going in there anyway.