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Laid Back

The light from the lamp shade was turning everything under its grip into a shadow silhouette on the wall of this room with the curtains were halfway drawn. A naked man, hands half bent and frozen in position, stood motionless by the window smoking a leftover of a blunt, his heart pumping with the frequency of a frozen beat making a blood scratch the inner walls of vessels and veins. Body and mind were one piece of its own. Behind closed eyes he imagined sniffing a white rosebud full of cocaine.


Tiny streak of smoke came out of his lips. Face muscles have slowly raised his eyelids.

One more blink.

Weed was good and started to kick in. A strange but pleasant sense of uselessness. After so many days of a storm at the sea the calm looked almost unnatural. The stress has ceased. He didn’t know what to do with himself for a while, gotta to find something new to be busy with, engrossed in, excited by. A sudden, long awaited change. Events of the past week’s shit storm ended up in one big convolution and a much needed break was now happening. Everything about the deal was fucked up from the start. It was inaccurate, so much of it went wrong, nonetheless, went down anyway.

Dreams of outcome under the nightmare of the deadline. 

If only this never ending circle could be broken. Getting something specific done and getting whatever out of it, wasn’t that the goal?

All preparation ran for about two weeks, the actual transaction took no more than 5 minutes, and the move itself was even less than that. Grand total came down to four people, two identical bags, one with the product, the other with cash, one location, one exchange. The smoothest deals done in public amongst numerous unsuspecting rubberneckers are grossly overrated. The aftermath (and the keyword here is math) is: six people dead (five shot and one stabbed), both bags missing, zero witnesses. What the fuck? How in the hell? Any phrase or a question will suffice, but shit truly does happen!

All outside the window seemed to be in perfect order.

Glass was the barrier between distorted inner peace and well organized external madness. Indoors served as the opposite of the outdoors. Twelve stories down was the corner of the Blitz and Maine. Street lights, bar lights, car lights, neon lights. Brick buildings, glass buildings, glass statues, brick churches, faux art structures, statues. Architectural failures and attempts were everywhere. Urban landscape as they say. The process of erecting a building somewhere was always in progress. People below shuffled about like ants on the chessboard at night in some old mansion. Appearing and disappearing were the figures in lit boxes across the hotel.

He could have watched it all night while time seemed to be sucked into the vortex of stillness and nihility. 

A small pause in the length of eternity. How long has it been? Three minutes? Three hours? Six minutes? Six hours? It did not matter. His mouth felt dry, post inhalatory illusion of the proper amount of weed that was packed has settled in. A sensation the one gets after smoking in any form is, certainly, the need to re hydrate. His hand slowly reached for a half empty beer bottle which was placed  lonely by a window ledge. Nice long sip has followed. Dryness was gone. A sudden thought ran across the man’s mind. It felt really nice to get away with something finally, a tiny fact that gave meaning to the future, if it had any. Another screen of contemplation fended off the previous one. He loved his thoughts running like this while being high. The man’s brain worked on pleasant autopilot, crystallized eyes were still, attached to what was going on outside the window.

Reminiscent of a crime scene with no blood and chalk outlines on the floor, the room inside was chaos cut in half. 

Open bathroom door, scattered pieces of clothes, shoes laying around like land mines. All the chairs were huddled in one corner of the room. Empty beer bottles on the nightstand. The ranks of liquor ranged from beer to wine to whiskey. Table has carried powdery leftovers of a speed ball, on its glass surface there was a testing ground for raking lines out of the pile of powder with a hotel key card as the divider tool. Pot was broccoling up in fresh chunks next to a grinder. The glow of a laptop screen, it was wide open, facing the ceiling at 120 degrees. The sixties movie was running. Something with Brando. The bed was ruffled to shits. Pillows, pushed to one corner, were stacked in a way that reminded of an Aztec temple. Naked body of a female was lying on sheets that were semi wet awhile ago. Drying up. Her features were mild and insignificant except for the ass. It was an asset that was worth wiring to some bank offshore. The pair of earphones occupied her ears. It’s been awhile, you can tell. She was listening through the second part of the album. With a quick motion, a woman yanked the right earbud out and sat up on the bed turning her head towards the window. She glanced at his naked ass. After doing so, a smirk ran across her face.

“Are you gonna stand there for another year or come over and eat my pussy?”. 

Her voice sounded slightly coquettish yet it was enough to bring the man out of his trance.”It’s a damn good weed you know”. 

The response wasn’t what she expected. Upon getting his attention, the second goal was to get the man to look at her.


Her hand started to search the twisted mound of sheets for the lighter. It was reminiscent of a penguin diving into the ocean among the icebergs. She has decided to smoke as well.

“I’ve got it in my hand dummy”. 

He playfully exclaimed without breaking the state, showing her the lighter in the middle of his palm on the outstretched hand.

“Oh fuck that’s right”. 

The woman slowly got off the bed and headed towards the window where he stood. The walk was smooth and cat like, plastique wise, even though some twenty minutes ago she got fucked in the ass fairly well. 

“The hell are you staring at baby?”. 

She said slowly, putting her arms around him from behind.

“I think that couple over in that window just got done fucking on the kitchen over there”. 

The man said, pointing at the building across the street.

“See we’re not alone who’s working out late tonight”. 

“I can’t see without my glasses”. 

She said lighting the roach. 

Finally breaking his gaze away and blinking, probably for the first time in five minutes, the man has put out the remainder of the roach on the ledge. There’s nothing better than a little moisture to the eyeballs.

“You can finish off Charly if you want”. 

A pause was drawn in the air for a brief moment.

“Let’s stay by the window for a few in case they start again”. 

She said exhaling and picking up her glasses off the table.

“I think they went to bed, the light is off now”. 

His voice was in the room but his mind in the building across the street. Curious.

“Shit! You should’ve called me up earlier”. 

A woman said rubbing her finger on the glass surface of the table in order to scrape the leftovers of cocaine and direct it into her gums.

“What were you saying about the pussy?”

“I was just asking about eating me out if you want”. 

“Never thought i’d say this but you’ve hurt my dick a bit”. 

“Sorry, I’ve gotta stop doing dope I guess, kinda dries me up for some reason”. 

She said still massaging her gums like there was a bit of powder left on the tip of her finger. The content was long gone, absorbed by the inner lining of her mouth. Needless extra effort. The man got around to the back of her body, hugging from behind and pressed his crotch tightly against her butt. Blood knew where to rush at moments of such embrace. He was slowly filling up again. 

Pulling her hair to the side, he gently bit her neck.

Lights in the building across the street were all off except for the one on the second floor, it illuminated the space in between the adjacent windows. Bodies in the streets below have diminished in quantity. The lurking has almost ceased. 

It was beginning to get really quiet.

“I want to be inside of you when you’ll be seeing dreams”. 

His voice was barely audible and almost merged with the humming of an air conditioner, she was breathing heavily by the time he slipped his hand in between her legs.

“Now I’ll take you into the depths of this bed”. 

His right leg extended in Jean Claudeian kick pose, reaching and flipping the light switch with his foot. In the recently started motion the man’s three fingers went out of her cunt and got redirected into her mouth.

“Look here…. you aren’t dry after all”. 

Bodies step waltzed towards the bed. Getting busy burying his face between her legs, this time the thought was that he’s going to stack her orgasms on top of one another somewhere up to four at least. The dark of the room was slowly being filled with unidentifiable sounds reminiscent of a coyote howling under the moon with the mixture of the rattlesnake’s hissing. 

Building across the street, completely lightless, added to the tranquility. 

In a few hours the morning comes and the bright pancake of the sun with its first rays of light, piercing through from above like fencing sabres, will kick off another day… 

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in Contemporary Fiction, Drama, Fantasy, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Humor, LGBTQ+, Personal Narrative, Romance, Satire, Sexy Stories, True Crime