#limvrence

When her phone lit up with a text from Piper, Weezie was out her door in a flash, dressed in a purple sundress and a pair of sandals.Not long after Weezie had received the text message did she arrive at the cafe, having parked her truck just a block away. As usual, she arrived early and stepped inside to request a table for two outside. It was just too nice of a day for her to pass up sitting outside. The birds were chirping. The sun was out and Weezie sat patiently, legs crossed, for her friend.

Upon seeing someone that kinda looked like Stevie, Weezie made her way over to her with a smile, “Veronica?”

                    she’d always been in the chronic habit of neglecting to check the weather. it was a practice that, more often than not, resulted in a certain lack of preparedness when it came to her attire – on sunny days, she’d be stuck in a sweater because it was the l o o k she’d settled on; on rainy days she’d be underdressed, wearing heels with little to no traction on the slick pavements, and holding a feeble hand over her head as if that did anything at all to protect her hair. ergo, it was ironic, really, that on a day she now planned to spend inside, she’d caught the forecast on television. it was with quiet reverence that she did, coffee mug held close against her lower lip & hand briefly forgetting the eyeliner she’d put on thirty minutes before, as it reached up to rub a remnant of sleep from her eye, smudging the careful lines a bit. albeit, total coherency was futile and lacking before she’d properly awakened.

                    just as the reporter spoke of the rain, stevie vaguely registered the dull patter of it on the windows, lulling and consistent. a quick glance around told her that she should’ve tidied up a bit more than she had: after finally doing the dishes the night before, she’d put a few more mugs and various wineglasses in the sink, a dirty plate from her bedroom, and moved the previous night’s work from the dining table to her bed before giving up altogether. there’d been enough to set up as it was, what with felix coming over… any minute now.

                    it wasn’t that they were late – it was likely just that stephanie had gotten up too early, and now time passed interminably. one cup of coffee, then two, then she made more because that’d been the last of what was left that morning. the curtains had been thrown open, and she’d paced round the sofa; even sprawled across it, to imagine what it’d feel like to be in a subject’s position. WEIRD, was what it was— and there wasn’t even anyone in the room. scrutiny felt strange upon her body, even only imagined, and gentle observations were undoubtedly what stevie had always preferred. in a moment of sheer curiosity, she untied the knot of her robe ( rosy pink, velvet, with wide sleeves and a hem that swept the floor as she walked – elegant and outdated, and a STEAL at a thrift store in new york ) to feel the air – to truly establish what felix would be in… any minute now.

                    but then, she had to scramble, the sound of the buzzer nearly making her jump out of her skin. her robe was knotted around her waist hastily once more, mid-run to the door to buzz felix in over the intercom. or, at least, who she assumed was felix. occasionally  it’d be a stranger, just pressing numbers and hoping someone in the building was home to let them in.

                  ❛     hey, felix? you can come on up and inside. have fun on the stairs.

     In all of the idiotic stunts Cohen has ever pulled off, this by far had to be a new level of stupid. Though, in hindsight, he didn’t see it as that. Actually, he found his doings pretty normal and he figured his good friend wouldn’t find it too out of the ordinary either. But what he did was after all illegal. He didn’t realize any of this as he sat on Piper’s couch, flipping through the channels on her television. He patiently waited for her to arrive, not even considering the possibility that she may not be alone. Not because he expected her to always be alone, but just simply because he doesn’t think things all the way through. Thinks too much or damn too little – it’s a curse.

     Once the front door opened, he didn’t even look up at her. Instead, he called out, “Before you freak out, yes I’m here. And before you yell at me for breaking into your place, I mean can you really be mad at me? Who puts their spare key under the welcome mat? What is this, the 90’s? Everyone knows that’s the first place to look for a spare key.” He shakes his head and looks up at her. “If anything, this should be a lesson to show you that just about anyone as crazy as me can break in. So, yeah, you’re welcome. Also you’re out of chips.”