But opted for straight-to-slumber instead. Thought about slapping some old Mystery Science Theater 3000 on, because ending the day on a laugh is my favorite way to go.

I’d had just a couple of beers for a change, written a couple of pages I liked, grabbed a late-night nosh and a Daily Show rerun before settling into bed. Just an hour ago, my night was peaceful and sweet. The steel cage rattles, all the way up to three. Plenty of time for us to gather our power. It only takes three minutes to arrive, thirty seconds for the door to open, another minute for the fucking thing to close with us aboard. The slowest elevator in God’s creation is unusually perky tonight. I light up, too, moving through the foyer. He’s already moving toward the glass doors, keys in hand, impatient to get on with it. I kiss the nape of her neck-she’s far taller than me-and she kisses the top of my head. The night is crisp, but our blood is boiling through our skin. We hug hard, almost hard enough to break bones. Then over the thin strip of lawn to the sidewalk, and straight into Angie’s arms.

It takes everything I have not to slam the door behind me. “Motherfucker,” I mutter, hitting my blinkers and climbing out. Jack smiles thinly, salutes as I block the grade school playground driveway next door (the only available parking left), leaving enough room for the back doors of Jack’s van to load in if need be. Angie and Jack are already out front: Angie pacing, a furious smoke in her hand. I pull up in front of Stanley’s four-story Los Feliz apartment building at 2:57 ayem.

The scream john skipp