Often, Dan took longer to get ready then Laura. Scratch that, often was always. The amount of time Dan spent on his hair alone, Laura had devoured two Marlbro lights, skolled her first beers and positioned herself sexily, yet impatiently against the door, ready to leave this godforsaken apartment three blocks up from Cavell.
She was growing impatient in general these days. The grinding noise in the night she had discovered was his teeth, the gnashing drowned out the waves that echoed through the tiny sliding door. Laura dreamt about stuffing his mouth with cotton wool while he slept, but wondered if she might suffocate him. As the nights wore on, she cared least about the suffocation effect and more about when she would be able to sleep.
The amount he spent on t shirts was obscene, Laura thought. The amount she spent worrying about people she doesn’t know was pathetic, Dan thought.