In the Apartment

Rain streamed down the window in sheets, overflowing the gutter and spilling into the walk below. Even though it was fifty-six degrees outside Ben Derringer had the ceiling fan running at half-speed, the steady whir of the motor mingling with the pattering of rain and intermittent drum rolls of thunder. In the kitchen the radio was talking to itself in tongues, swapping from detergent ads to second-rate soaps in an effort to amuse. Across the hall in the bedroom, the willowy form of Resa lay sprawled on the bed, tossing and turning in attempt to get comfortable, wrapped tightly in the comforter. Finally, giving up sleep as a lost cause, she rose to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping the comforter drawn tight like a shawl against the cold, and stared blankly out into the hall of the tiny one bedroom apartment. Frowning, she let her senses take in the area around her, tuning in for the first time the sound of the whirring fan and connecting it to the sight of her breath.

In the living room Ben sat slumped at the computer desk, chin resting on his folded arms as he gazed out the window at the rain. On his left the digital clock read 3:45 PM, well past his usual lunchtime, yet he wasn't hungry. Maybe it was because Vanessa hadn't returned from grocery shopping to replenish the pantry’s unnaturally low stock, or perhaps it was the weather spoiling his appetite. Whatever the reason he continued to stare, even as padded footsteps approached, accompanied by the swish of something long and soft sweeping the ground.

"What do you think you're doing?" a feminine Slavic accent demanded.
Ben didn't bother to avert his gaze; "What do you mean?" he asked in a monotone voice.
There was a click from the nearby wall switch and the fan began to slow, the sound of its motor fading into the rainfall and radio. "It is freezing in here and you have the fan on?" Resa vented her annoyance at being unable to sleep on her friend, "Are you trying to catch pneumonia?"
Ben said nothing.
"Well?"
"Persnickety. I'm a cat."
Resa blinked, caught off guard. "What?'
"I'm a cat," he repeated dryly. "Persnickety."
She continued to stare at him, not comprehending but suspecting that he had no intention of making sense. The sound of the front lock turning snapped her out of it and she shook her head.
"I'm home," Vanessa called, closing the door behind her.
Resa sighed and turned away, leaving Ben to stare out the window alone, a sly smile beginning to creep unnoticed across his face.