I was at Rebecca's house, but it's more of an apartment. She's got a cat, Damien or something, that likes to claw at me when I come over but I don't mind. We put him out on the windowsill when we crawl into the bedroom. Always at night, always making moves in the dark. She will never fall in love with me. And I will never care. And I stroke her hair, dark and wet, as she lays across the bed wrapped in a towel. Flies gather on the leftover plate of food I can't stomach to finish as my lip twitches, then again, but she's seen it happen before and cradles my face with her shriveled hands smiling at me dripping water down my cheek. She kisses me rather quickly and sits up on the bed dropping her towel and opening the drawer next to the bed. Laying back down, trying in vain to muster up some voice in my head, one of reason and clarity that will help me out of this mess but all I can come up with are careless whispers.