Backmask by O F Cieri

Author:O F Cieri [Cieri, OF]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Malarkey Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

**

Valerie was woken by a scream.

Blaine was sitting upright in bed, bathed by the streetlights diffused through Chill’s curtains. One hand was wrapped around her knees, the other clapped over her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Chill asked. Blaine glanced briefly at her, then back to her first area of concentration. When Chill followed her gaze, she found the wardrobe.

She felt a tingle at the back of her scalp. “What happened?”

“I had a dream,” Blaine said, combing hair out of her face. “Or, more like an episode of sleep paralysis. I thought I was awake, and in this room, but frozen. A naked man climbed out of your wardrobe and began dancing towards me, waving his arms.”

“Just you? Where was I?”

Blaine went through a rapid series of facial expressions; first, her scrunched-nose expression of annoyance. Then a concerted thoughtfulness, and finally back to the face of masked fear she’d first woken up with.

“I wasn’t here—I was at home.”

“But with my wardrobe?” Chill asked. Blaine nodded. Seeing that the dream had really spooked her, Chill dragged her back down to the mattress. “So that’s what you were after—to spirit off my wardrobe, with all my pairs of pants still inside it! This was all just a long con to force me into a skirt.”

Blaine didn’t laugh, only scoffed a little, but she was sufficiently distracted. She laid back down and stared up at the ceiling until Chill fell back to sleep.

Chill slept as she normally did for the next few hours and woke up wondering again if she’d made a mistake. Nothing good came from mixing business and pleasure, and adding Blaine to her list of responsibilities was not part of her plans. The boundaries that once defined their place were fractured, and now Chill felt like a celestial body cut loose from her orbital path, richochetting into the unknown.

In more present matters, she wasn’t sure if Blaine was still in her apartment. She was the only one in her bed, and the many different parts of Blaine’s undergarments were missing, while the two bourbon glasses remained. Did that mean she’d left, or was she lingering? Chill put on a shirt and went to investigate. She found Blaine in the living room, flipping pages. Chill’s living room was listed in the apartment ads as a second bedroom, a study, and/or alcove, though it was unsuitable for any such use as it had no door. There wasn’t space for a traditional couch, but she’d built a comfortable nest out of pillows and a blanket. Blaine was sunk deep into this nest, one pillow in her lap to prop up the book.

“You look comfortable.”

“I am,” she said. “Hope you don’t mind that I stuck around.”

“No, I’m happy for the company,” Chill said automatically. “Shall we get a cup of coffee?”

She took Blaine to the cafe on the corner, where she opted for their strong and gritty caffè in the tiny porcelain cups the owner brought to America. He once told her his family were gentleman farmers with a stronghold in the mountains.

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