Blue and Hannah

Hannah is sitting on the pillows spread in the corner of the hard wood floor with her back against the pillow against the beige wall. Long day at work. Long shower after. She is waiting. With vodka and tuna on wheat, light mayo. Onions. Celery. Black 'n' mild on the coffee table in front of her. Daring her to reconnect. Love Jones dvd. Nia Long, Larenz Tate. Vodka.

She sleeps through the scene when Bill Bellamy tells Nia to walk home, 'cause that's nobody's favorite part. Blue's timing is always right. Step, step, step, step sixteen more times then key. Open door.

"There she is."

"Hey you."

Blue is a clock. Jacket off. Close door. Lock door. Shoes. Deep breath. Blue doesn't move with hurry in his feet. But he gets there. Down next to her. Puts her head in the palm of his hand. His chin is the cieling she has been waiting for all day.

"Can we talk?" He has that voice. That voice that swallows time.

"Want me to turn the movie off?"

"No. Not talk talk. Just...say words."