Reading Aloud

I took the leather chair, the good one, the one clients probably fought over. My briefcase sat by my feet, black and locked, like it had secrets of its own. The room smelled like a law library after a flood: old paper, and under it, rain.

World

#Блок

Есенин

The streetlight outside cut through the blinds in uniform strips. I lay on my back and didn't move, which was probably the best thing I could do at that moment. She shifted. I felt her weight redistribute across the mattress, felt her eyes on me. I knew that look. She was about to ask me something I didn't want to answer.