The food court still smelled faintly of whatever chemical ghost lived in the grease traps. The skylights still let in the same flat, diffused light that made everything look like a slightly depressing catalogue shoot. Murphy had stopped finding it weird about months ago. Now it was just home, which was its own kind of weird when he thought about it too hard. He tried not to think about it too hard because he was carrying too much to think about anything, really. The lingerie bag was the problem. It was a pink problem, swinging from two fingers, rustling with every step he took down the corridor past the various living spaces.
The wrapping paper he'd found was technically festive. Red and gold, some kind of Christmas holdover but it clashed magnificently with the bag, and the whole package inside was lumpy in a way that suggested it had been wrapped by someone who understood the concept of gift-wrapping but had maybe never done it under ideal conditions. Or any conditions. He'd done it on the floor of a sporting goods store using athletic tape because he'd run out of regular tape, and honestly, he thought it had a certain charm. The KitKats had been harder to find than the wrapping paper. He had priorities. Murphy slowed outside the door. The one Vince had claimed, back when they'd all been divvying up the mall's real estate like some post-apocalyptic HOA meeting. He shifted the bag to his other hand, tucked the birthday card under his arm, and fished in his jacket pocket for the other thing. His fingers closed around the box of candles first, actual birthday candles, the kind with the little colored stripes and then the Twinkie, slightly squashed but still in its wrapper. It was still viable at a glance.
"If you're fucking about in here I can't hear it." He knocked with his elbow. "Vince." He knocked again. "I have... I've got..." He looked down at himself. At the pink bag. At the candles. At the Twinkie he was now holding up like some kind of offering. "Um okay, I've got some things that require explanation, but I want to lead with the fact that my intentions were good." He laughed, hating the sound of it over what worked for hearing nowadays. "Also, happy birthday. It's a little late. Like..." He did the math. Grimaced. "Eh it's more than a little late. But in my defense, the KitKats took a while, and I feel like that counts for something." He held up the Twinkie a little higher, as though it could speak for itself. "These don't go bad. I looked it up once. Before. They basically last fucking forever. So technically the Twinkie is right on time... it just started its journey earlier than anticipated." He waited, leaning awkwardly in the doorway. "I also have a card. It's got a dog on it. I didn't have a lot of options."
@matterofsurvival
