HE ATE WITHOUT ME

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I had no idea it was already so late.

Of course.

Whenever I was with Johnson he had the ability to somehow bend time. Nothing was ever right when it came to him.

Trying Hosea’s phone number one more time, and I am met with the same earlier story, he had turned off his phone.

I rush up the stairs to his apartment, using the key, I find the apartment empty.

My fingers drag through the strands of my hair, I tug on it in the way he does that instantly startles my nerves, it doesn’t help this time.

He had called me more than ten times. I had put my phone on silence, and didn’t have time to check it. Another sign and symptom of Johnson, he made everything about himself, every damn time.

Again, I try to call him.

“Where are you?”

It’s way past dinner time, and he doesn’t have work at the mart today.

There’s one place he must have gone.

Rushing back outside, i drive to the art center, as I drive, I pray to whoever was listening that he was there.

Sure enough, his ca