I brought the rum.
Screen door is ajar. Faint light blue trickles out onto the porch. Not a black face in sight.
Shawty bugging I think. Who leaves the door unlocked in this hood?
Hop out the whip. Click it shut.
Push the door open.
Takes my eyes a minute to get used to the light.
She is asleep on the sofa. A threadbare blanket wrapped around narrow waist. Fat ass propped suggestively in the air. Fresh Prince is on.
I was supposed to be here 3 hours ago.
Turn off the TV. She is shivering. I cover her with my hoodie for extra warmth. Might as well leave the booze too.
Come back for it in the morning. Get up to leave.
The screen door rattles.
Shit, I didn’t lock it…