Joey kicked the blankets into a heap at the bottom of his bed. His parents had gone to bed hours ago. He should have been finishing up studying but instead he was in the dark, his face illuminated by an endless social-media doom-scroll.
He let the phone fall to his chest, dousing the light. “Fuck it.”
He rolled over to shove his bare feet into his pre-tied sneakers. Keys. Jacket. Phone. Then out the window he crawled. He wished he had to scale some big trellis or a tree or something. Instead he was met with a grand ol’ drop of 2 feet. Whoopdeedoo…
The crunch of his feet onto neglected grass was made eerie in the quiet, coiled streets of suburbia. The street lamp glowed a harsh LED white, humming slightly. The beginnings of autumn wrapped around him. The dry chill. The earthen smell and skitter of decomposing oak leaves.
Joey got in his black SUV, screwing his eyes shut as the engine roared to life. When the house remained dark, he pulled down the street. Slow at first, then faster, sticking a middle finger towards Old Mrs. Shelby’s darkened house; that snitch.
He plugged in the aux and blared his music. He didn’t know where he was going; that is, until his eye caught a sign and he took the turn so fast that his phone slid off the passenger seat, landing in the foot-well with clatter.
The packed-dirt parking spots were empty, it being too late at this secluded spot even for couples getting handsy. Joey shoved the car door open while the engine still creaked in cool-down. Dirt transitioned to sand as he pushed through tall grasses. He kicked off his shoes and started running, reveling in the way the sand gave way beneath his feet. The crash of breaking waves reached him before the actual sight. The moon was low on the horizon, creating a diffuse line of light across the rippled surface.
Salt water hung in the air and clung between the creases of Joey’s skin. He dug his bare feet into the coarse sand, wiggling his toes until they were entirely swallowed up. He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him only to be whisked away by the ocean air.
He stood there until his toes went numb and his eyes teared up in the harsh wind.
Shoes in hand, he got back in his car and rolled down the windows so the wind buffeted his face as he drove. His hair whirled every which way. It occasionally whipped him in the eye and he made a mental note to schedule a haircut; a note he’d forget by morning, when this whole ordeal felt like nothing more than a dream.
He parked three houses down and pushed the door closed. Then he climbed through the open window and back into bed, the last traces of salt making his forehead stick to the worn cotton of his pillow.
–
Milo Cooper is a biomedical engineer. They can often be found in nature or editing their science fiction novels. Their work can be found in Dark Fire Fiction or on twitter at @MiloCWrites.
© 2023, Milo Cooper
Halfway Down the Stairs 