Vodka

When I walk into the apartment, I open the window. The air is stale and heavy and it hangs. I take off my coat and put it back in the closet. I reach in the freezer, pull out a bottle of vodka, and give my glass a long pour. Tonic, but no lime. Lemon juice instead.

I make a place on the couch. I figure I'll watch some TV. Do something to pass time. But I remember. I remember to get the shoebox on the top shelf.


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