#2.25 AM
It’s the dead of night. A powdery film of snow on the ground absorbs or muffles the sounds of the city. In the distance, the low rumble of cars can be heard, and closer, the gentle hum of a building’s HVAC.
I’m climbing a fire escape on a rustic apartment building, trying to be quiet on the sheer metal. Following up on a request made over the phone. We’ve been talking over text for a week or so, getting to know each other, sending a few cheeky photos here and there. Flirty pics, like one taken post workout in yoga pants and a sports bra, or one taken under a blanket, with bare shoulders peeking out, hinting at the naked body underneath. Lots of messages detailing what we wanted to do to each other, and upset at the pandemic. But it was too much to wait for. She wanted me in her bed, so here I am.
#2.30 AM
I reach her floor. I double check that I’m at the right apartment before reaching out and knocking on the window, as my breath fogs it up like an airbrush painting white.