So there we sat in the broken apartment, clustered the three of us in the one place that was untouched.  The back door was wide open to the world, and a small square of light illuminated the wall of plant life which hid the highway so nearby.  After midnight, even in Antioch, nobody was on the roads.  R was seated at the computer, clicking through MySpace and reading LiveJournal comments aloud as they came in.  S was curled up on the papisan chair rubbing C's head; it was the only thing that would calm him down.  A pump-action shotgun lay on the floor beside them as they waited for the police to come.

They did, of course, but not until after three hours had passed.  As the officer walked in the door, K took one look and literally inhaled her soda.  "You thought he was cute, too, didn't you?"  R asked.  "Yeah...." the other girl replied, as sheepish as she could be while choking.  The officer came and went, but not before they had both noticed the wedding band.  An investigator showed up, deeming nearly everything unfit for fingerprints.  After helping the officer's, S resumed his seat on the floor.  R lit another cigarette, and the smoke dangled itself through the air.  Talk of astrology as a science began, and C rattled off numerous obscure details, surprising S and intriguing R.  Marlboros mixed in the air with rum and soda and easy talk as a complete stranger wearing purple gloves picked through the remaining belongings.  He had easy going of it -- everything was on the floor.

C sighed.  "Two days before I moved..."