My sister, she's thirty, she's somewhere out west, we think, maybe
Winnipeg, she had a boyfriend in highschool who ended up there. . . ."
It takes her four more hours to wind down, and I think I must be picking up a
contact-high from her, because I'm not even a little tired. Eventually, she's
lying with her head in my lap, and I can feel my robe slip underneath her, and
I'm pretty sure my dick is hanging out underneath her hair, but none of it seems
to matter. No matter how long we sit there, I don't get cramps in my back, none
in my knee, and by the time we both doze away, I think I maybe am in love.
#
I should have spent the night in my bed. I wake up nearly twenty hours later,
and my knee feels like it's broken into a million pieces, which it is. I wake
with a yelp, catch my breath, yelp again, and Daisy is up and crouching beside
me in a flash. Tony arrives a moment later and they take me to bed. I spend New
Year's there, behind a wall of codeine, and Daisy dips her finger into her glass
of fizzy nauga-champagne and touches it to my lips at midnight.
#
I eat four codeine tabs before getting up, my usual dose. Feb is on us, as
filthy and darky as the grime around the toilet bowl, but I accentuate the
positive.
By the time I make it downstairs, Tony's in full dervish, helping unload a
freshly-scrounged palette of brown bread, lifted from the back of some bakery.
He grins his trademark at me when I come into the kitchen and I grin back.
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