Sunday

You click the side of your phone for the sixth time in ten minutes. No likes. No comments. No snaps. No messages. No new notifications. No one.

You stopped doing the dishes a week ago. The sink can’t fit any more and it’s starting to smell. 

You avoid thinking about it. Just like you flinch away from thinking about how the bathroom looks.

You microwave something brown and toss the cardboard box and plastic wrap on top of the overflowing trash. It falls onto the floor but you’re already on your way to the couch.

You debate playing League or jerking off. An hour later and you’ve done both.

You feel that slight sense of disgust after and jump into the shower for the first time since before you did the dishes. There’s no soap left but you use the shampoo. It’s almost out.

You plop down onto the couch and open up Netflix. It’s twenty minutes before you realize you’ve been mindlessly browsing and have yet to watch something. You turn it off and click that side button on your phone again. Nothing. The blank screen is like a little knife carving “No one cares about you!” into your brain.

You flick the lid back and forth of the Zippo your grandfather gave you when you were a kid. Your grandfather had your mom when he was 26. You’re 29. You roll your thumb down on the wheel and the flame pops out. You hold it underneath your hand. A scene from Taxi Driver flashes through your mind. 

The doorbell rings. You close the top of the lighter. You hastily throw on a shirt and rush to the door. Thank god you took a shower this morning.

A shaggy-haired guy about your age stands before you. 

“Hi, are you Bill?”

“No.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m looking for a Magic meetu… Hey, man. Nice shirt!”

You look down. It’s your Firefly shirt.

The guy’s nice tone makes you feel weird. It’s unexpected and it feels a little like ice breaking inside you. You’re taken aback by the sudden warmth. You look down and smile. You can’t help it.

“Yeah, it’s great. I love Joss Whedon.” 

“Same! Hey, this might be weird but I was looking to make more friends and was gonna check out this Magic meetup. Do you want to come?”

“Umm, yeah, maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t hung out with anyone in a while…”

“Perfect. I won’t be the weirdest one there, haha. What’s your number? I’m Nate by the way.”

You close the door and slump against it like someone in the movies. You realize you’ve been holding your breath and you let it out.

You look down. A notification pops up on your phone. A text.

Your cheeks suddenly feel wet and hot. But you’re smiling. Ear to ear.

You get up and grab the dish soap.

If you liked this, you should check out “Dumped”, my short sci-fi story published in Waste Advantage Magazine:

Dumped – My Short Sci-Fi Story Published in Waste Advantage Magazine

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