The Game

In the inky darkness, Victor cursed his lack of attention to the day-to-day tasks he always put off until later. The ConEd bill!!! They always cut the power on a Friday night, too---just to teach you a lesson. This was an inconvenience he hadn't anticipated. A hot shower was out of the question now. He slouched out of his trench coat, letting it fall to the floor. What a day!

Back at Jeanette's place, the super had just finished nailing a sheet of plywood over the window. Slumped on the futon, Jeanette just felt gloomy. And it was pretty gloomy in there. She switched on the lamp and rubbed her right foot, hoping she wouldn't develop a staph infection. "What are you smirking at?" she snapped at Mr. Whiskers. He just stayed where he was looking down with satisfaction from the top of the refrigerator. "Meow."