Moving On

Even the storm sounded like it was amazed. A brief second passed where there was no thunder and no water trailing down Harry's window. Joan glanced over her shoulder with a forelorn look. If it let up, and nobody was really in any danger of drowning (not that we had ever been), would all that have been for nothing? She turned away from it like she refused to entertain the possibility. Obliging her, there was a crack, and a crash. Far in the distance, lightning struck the spire rising above a skyscraper. We were back.

Molly made a move, patting around in search of her purse. Searching for wet wipes to help her friend, I'm sure. She didn't find them in time. Jack opened his dumb mouth. "Well, congrats, Joanie. Paul, better showing than I thought. I figured you'd bust in ten, fifteen seconds, tops. So hey, three minutes is pretty good."

Paul stumbled down to the ground. He sat cross legged, paying no attention to the fact that his lower half was still totally naked. "It was only three minutes?" he said. By the look of him, he was more ashamed of that than of the white that was now settling down Joan's chin.

Jack tapped the watch on his wrist. "I kept track, don't worry," he said. And maybe he had. Cruel jokes and sadistic honesty were both equally within his frame of reference.

Finally Molly stood up. "Just give me a second, Joanie," she said. Like me, she hadn't been able to look at her roommate since the fuss had died down. She busied herself to have a good excuse for the lack of a kind word. Again, she moved too slow. Jack wasn't struck by the same paralysis as her.

"Fair is fair, Joan. Now it's your turn. Who you gonna pick?"

Joan mouthed half a word, and again the slick white goo resting on her lips moved with her. It was like she'd forgotten how we got here, that we were playing a game. Hard to blame her. Without some better solution, she wiped her face with the back of her hand, and then shook her hand so it could be close to clean again. I saw Harry wince as the spunk landed on his carpet. Oh, now you care, I thought, and I was amazed by the strength of my resentment. What an accommodating host.

"Um, maybe Harry?" said Joan. Had she noticed it too?

The air around him was frayed. Paul and Joan hadn't quite sobered him up. He was buzzing, though maybe he didn't know it.

"Truth," he said.

"What're you so afraid of?" I started to say, but didn't. Tensions were high enough.