1:23 by 8:00

1:23

I had bought her a five dollar box of Butter Waffle cookies, French. As she slept I placed it on her pink linoleum table, the cat didn't meow when I came in, the floor didn't creak, the air conditioner didn't stop its particular hum. I just didn;t make an enterance. Her table was strewn with magazines, balls of cat fur, keys and cigarette butts, she didnt smoke though, i noted. In the middle of it all sat a gleaming Joan Diddion anthology, with a copper cover. There it sat next to the chaos of it all. A bible of sorts, maybe a medallion of travel of the Golden State life (1:23) left behind. I placed the butter waffled cookies adjacent to the "bible". And i awaited on her cold kitchenette pastle colored chairs till early evening when she awoke, saw my face and served me coffee without a single word. The polluted sunset was a neon orange that night, partically crimsion. It bounced of her misshaped back in chuncks of blocked color. Caressing her ass, calves and neck in this apocoliptic sort of romance light. She riffled through her silverware drawer for a match. Her dark green silk garment tied around her hips

:this is my dawn isn't it wonderful like this?!"

She stopped and looked at me for ages, seemed like.

"Why?"

:because its supposed to be the treat at the end of the day. Its gluttonous to enjoy it once you awake"

"I don't believe that." She says.

"Obviously."

I don't kiss her. I never have. I cherish her. Her face pock ridden and dirty. Her eyes dull and human. I wish i could play fancy and describe different worlds between her and I. But there lies nothing. I like it like that.
Entertained by her tight green robe and the fast fading sun, I Realised she hadn't noticed the butter cookies. I pushed them close to her, as if a rustle of cardboard would maker her turn. I began changing my body position and taping my fingers against her linolem table. NOthing. She kept looking at her two plates (pink, blue) five bowls (2 porecline, 1 white, 2 green) the six cups (3 mugs, 3 fragile wine glasses) the sun was gone by now. Darkness settled on her figure and on her barren cupboards and scuffed hardwood floor.

"Turn on a light!"

She said faintly dabbing hr head with her index and middle finger.

"I bought you butter cookies."

She cocked her head towards them, creeping towards the box as if examining an exotic beast before handling it in a tap act.

"A five dollar box of cookies!" I said.

She looked timid before them. Picking up the box and reading the fonts and words about it.

"Juuuules Destrooper-Product of Belgium- Paris Butter Waffles."

Her face eased inbetween words.
Opening the silver plasitic, fondeling the fragile geomeetric cookie in her hand Digesting them before her afternoon of 8:00 pm.