Shook out of another dream. “There is blood all over the patio.”
“There is always blood on the patio,” lighting cigarette butt from ashtray.
“This is different and strange.”
“Do you even remember last night?” I didn’t, and her tone reveals a lot.
“Of course I do. We had some people over, some laughs.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” She leaves an angry void in the doorway.
“I guess we didn’t have any laughs,” I mumble to myself digging in the grimy half-light for my pants.