That day was straight-up boring as hell for Ray.
From morning till night, all he could do was pace back and forth in that stuffy, gross apartment. The system still wouldn't open no matter what he tried.
The mental image of that spoon Sonya had been rubbing all over her thick, wet folds kept flashing in his head and made him wanna puke. He rushed to the sink and chugged more tap water, but the taste still wouldn't go away.
"I gotta get outta here tomorrow," he muttered under his breath. "Can't take this shit anymore."
---
The next morning, Ray woke up at eight-thirty. He grabbed his phone right away and called the apartment owner he'd bookmarked yesterday.
"Hello, good morning, ma'am. This is Ray. I messaged you yesterday about the small studio. Is it still available? I was hoping I could come take a look today."
The owner's voice came through warm and friendly.
