Gi-Gi smelled like coffee beans as she jiggled the bag down the hallway like a maraca. The hallway dark except for the streetlight through the window.
Sammy clicked on the emergency light they kept on the bookshelf for just this reason. Click and Gi-Gi was a coffee shaking ghost. Click, dark again.
“Hey man. Light me up,” Gi-Gi said. She shook the coffee bag. The smell was intoxicating.
Benny their schnauzer ran through the dark kitchen and to the front door carrying an empty poop bag in his mouth. God knew his people couldn’t keep it together to walk him properly. He sat like a prince and thumped his little tail.
Sammy clicked on the light again, shined it on the dog like a spotlight. “Ah, Benny. We don’t deserve you, dude.”
Gi-Gi looked at Sammy, then at Benny, then at Sammy. Her bangs a short little curtain above her eyes. “Do I deserve you? Do you deserve me? Isn’t the world so fucked up, Sammy? The power is out again. What’re we gonna do for fun?”
Sammy knew he’d walk the dog. He always walked the dog. Did he deserve Gi-Gi? That wasn’t that hard to answer. Did she deserve him? A little trickier, a little looser. Did she deserve him? Sammy fiddled with the portable light, clicked it on/off, on/off, on/off. Benny barked and indignantly dropped the floppy green bag on the floor. Gi-Gi swayed her hips—cha-cha-ed toward the dark kitchen.
“I’m gonna figure out how to make coffee if it kills me,” she said. “Cause I love you,” she added on like a clause.
Sammy pulled Benny’s leash from the coat stand, clipped it onto Benny’s collar, although it wasn’t needed. Sammy wanted the tether, wanted to feel in charge and normal. The streetlight’s orange haze greeted them. “Why are you on?” Sammy asked it as they circled the dark, dark block.
