Tonight, he thought, he will. Why not? A little adult entertainment. After all, he earned it. He worked hard today, progressed the client project, made lunches, walked the dog, did dishes, attended extra curricular activities, and now, finally, some time alone for whatever-one-could-want really. Thank you internet, great one, provider of kinks, we are grateful for the images you nourish us with. The thought was clear, shiny unmistakable as he pulled up the sheets and picked up his phone from the night stand. But he also knew it didn’t come without cost. He knew the second he hit the link he would become a would become a willing foot soldier in the endless battle of one more. One more better than the last. One more, a little closer. One more, a little harder. One more, a little more mouth. One more, a little more leash. One more, a little more pull of hair. One more, a little more hand, a little more neck, a little more restraint. Just One more and one more, and a little bit more after that.

Wait, sorry…what dog? What dog are you talking about? The brown one of course. I call her brownie. “Brownie”? Very original. And where exactly do you see brownie? In the garage den and the backyard, almost every single day. You do? I do. Every day? Almost. When? Usually the in the afternoon. It comes in the afternoon. SHE comes in the afternoon. How come I never seen her. I am here in the afternoons. Maybe she doesn’t’t want to be seen. But she does – you see her! Yeah, but I’m me and you are you and who wouldn’t want to be seen by me, anyway? Right. So again there are no more blackberries because, as you said the dog appeared and at them. Yes, all of them. What? Are you listening to anything I am saying? I have never seen a dog eat a blackberry. You have too! When…when have I seen that? Your forty five years old, surely you must have seen this by now? I have not. What? Really? Your a dog blackberry virgin? Yes, yes I am? How did you get to be so old and not see it?

You search and you search certain the app is still here. Hiding somewhere in the menagerie of apps that litter across the screen of your phone. Half that you can’t even remember downloading let alone using. It’s blue, you say out loud. It has a circle or a tree, as if your phone is listening, as if only you just describe it accurately enough your phone would we extend it’s arm and open it’s closed fist to you. Ah, there it is. I knew it was here. Like an offer of one last shiny red jellybean in a bag where only the licorice ones remain that are black as squid ink and taste like burnt tires.

He came late. The way he always did. Without pretense or apology. Without even ringing the bell. Just appeared suddenly in the chair saved for him most of the night. Appeared with a glass of wine in hand, story on the lips as if he had been present all evening. As if it were the rest of us who, somehow, had arrived late to him. Secretly we hated him for that. And still, we loved him dearly. These days his seat stays empty, but his glass , we make sure, is always full, just in case, he should find a way to join us, for one last joke, one last smile, one last moment of shared silence.

Yes, he said, yes that would be fine just make sure the sugar is the right kind. The last time it was vrown and lumpy, like somebody pissed all over it. Jesus, that was fucking disgusting. I mean have you ever seen anything like that. Ever? In any kitchen? And then those assholes want to be paid? Be paid for shipping us piss sugar. Who the fuck do they think they are? Fucking ass clowns. We didn’t give them a goddamn cent. Not one. Fuck ‘em. Then they threaten to sue. You remember that letter we got from there lawyer? You remember that. Fuck. What a waste of time. Anyway, when it comes in you check it all right. Don’t let the guy go until you do. We ain’t signing for anything less than perfect. You remember how I taught you? All the steps? Good. You have any problems you call me. Allright. See you tomorrow.

He often thought about the night they walked gone after their first date. How the they stood in the pouring rain on her front stoop, as if in some kind of romantic comedy, only it wasn’t Hollywood. Not in even close. Not by a country mile as some would say. He moved in and she fainted, and she moved and he was out of position. And then they moved to the same space, instinctual, and their lips met. And it was quick and warm and electric. And it might not be Hollywood. But after she had gone inside and he watched her disappear up the stairs. He knew with so much clarity it made his arms tingle, made his geart beat so loud that felt so fucking good, for the briefest of moments he wondered if it was normal, if perhaps something else was going on , something that may require an ambulance and emergency room. But that soon passed, and the bus drove past him as he didn’t run to the stop. Tonight was a night for walking. A night of cold rain and a warm kiss. Of possibility and new begging.

New Years. 2 hours to midnight. 18 drinks down. What are going to do. Through the glitter bowl up in the air. Had a glitter shower, which at the tie seemed so perfectly appropriate, so fundamentally festive, that the idea that you would be finding pieces of glitter for the next two years till you sold the condo did not ever register as a fully formed thought. We debated this party and that one and then as midnight rolled closer, the clear answer how to celebrate was suddenly so obvious, we are going to the beach two blocks away, and we are going swimming, naked to be precise. We stumble down to the beach. Find the closest log and start taking off all our clothes. There’s a group just to the left of us with guitar and drums and when they realize that 6 0people just rolled in and 3 of them are losing their clothes quickly they start playing the stripper song ba-da-dumbs-dada- dum -dum. Naked we run across the freezing sand, our breath lingering in the air, steam, the sand ice cold between the toes, we run across the sand all in Aline, no one leading no one falling behind at almost the equal pace. No problem, the water will be here soon, we’ll jump in then out, back to the sand for a shot of whisky and a pair of pants. God it’s cold. We come of the beach sand into the hard pack, with puddles here and there, hard ridges pressing like knuckles on the bottoms of your feet.tides out. Your brain doesn’t register what that means. The hard ridges in the sand press into the bottom of your feet like knuckles. It’s cold. And dark. Ducking way darker than you thought it would be. Running towards the water, in beach, in January! You lose sight if the other two. You run til your legs ache, till your lungs burn, and your left side is one bug cramp, and you stop. Stand in an puddle barely ankle deep. Wondering where the water is and wondering where your penis went and it’s facing cold and if you wil ever see it again which, if you weren’t so drunk might cause enough panic to induce a stroke, but you put your hands on top if your head and try to slow your breathing and take in as much air as possible in every breath. And just as you start to catch it S. Appears, materializing like a ghost. Did you find it? You ask? Did you swim? No, he says, fuck it’s cold out here. I list M. He just disappeared. I ran till I could run no more. Then turned around and headed back. I get it, you say. And the M appears, looking not wet but thoroughly chilled. How was it? You ask. I never got there he says. I run and run but I don’t never got there don’t even know where it is. Can’t even hear it. “Drink?” Says a women’s voice right beside us. Where did you come frim, says S. You guys looked cold. She says. Irish whisky clutched in her outstretched hand. Thank you. You say. Pressing the bottle two your lips, feeling the warmth slide down your throat and into your core like a orange ember. The bottle goes around once, then twice. My boyfriends gonna kill me she says.

Maybe he should learn another language, he thought. Maybe he should learn an instrument, any instrument it’s nights like these. Staring up at the ceiling in the darker bedroom wondering how it was possible. How was it possible that he had walked this earth for as long as he has and still not learned?

What do you want. I want nothing. You want nothing? Yeah, I want nothing. Why is that so hard to understand? It’s not. But you want something right? What could I possibly want? I don’t know, you tell me. Tell you what? What you want. We alreafy covered this, I want nada, nothing ,zip. But you do,why do you keep saying this? Because it’s true! It’s not true. Haven’t you been listening? I have but you haven’t told me yet. Haven’t told you yet? Yes. What I want? Yes. Christ, what is wrong with you? Are you going to tell me or not?I told, I’ve been telling you, for the 100th time I want nothing. There is nothing I want. Right.that’s the truth. Ugh huh? Ugh huh? That’s all you have to say? What do you want me to say? I want you to say okay. I want you to say, it all right. Jesus, I want you to say that you believe me, for just this once, I’d like to hear those words come out of you’re mouth. There is a small problem. Dare I fucking ask? I don’t believe you. Never have.

You spent how much? I just told you. Tell me again, why? Cause I want to hear. You want to hear again. Yes. Why? Because I can’t believe it? What’s so hard to believe. $200. You spent $200! Yes. On a bottle of wine. Yes. One bottle of wine. Correct. What were you thinking? You don’t Sven make $400 dollars a day. I know. I know. But it’s 2010 Bordeaux. And? It’s first pressing? Ok. It’s chateau louis Sebastian. Uh huh. It’s a Margot. Yeah, and it’s $400! Correct. Did it come in a gold bottle? No. Is there a diamond in the bottom? No diamond. $400 for one bottle. Yes. Let’s see it. What? Let’s see this magical fucking Margot? You can’t. I can’t. This is my house, you moved in with me, we are suppose to be saving for a down payment, we agreed, so go get the wine, I want to see it. I can’t get it. I don’t have it. Wait, you paid the money but you don’t have the wine? Correct. You better not have drank it without me.ou drank it didn’t you? No, I did not drink it. Then why can’t I see it? Where is it. I rented a spot in a secure cellar. I don’t even know what that means. I pay $20 month and I have a spot in a guarded facility that soecializes in storing wine. $20 month? Yes. Why are you throwing all our money away? I am not throwing it away! Yes, you are. That bottle of wine just went from $400 to $640. Please, please tell me you didn’t pay up front. I paid upfront. Fuck!!