Sakee & Rayne :: SCOTCH

      Kay is sitting on the couch. She’s almost being swallowed by the big black cushions. It’s an old couch. You sink into it when you initially sit down. If you stay sitting there for over an hour, you almost feel as though it’s closing in on you, trying to wipe you from the face of the earth. Maybe that’s why she’s been sitting in it for so long now.
      The alarm clock went off at seven this morning. She forgot to shut it off. It’s Saturday. She doesn’t go in to work on Saturdays. She was a little drunk last night. Kay always forgets to do things when she’s drunk.
      The sky beyond the windows is dark and low. The clouds seem to almost be touching at the treetops. It’s raining again. It’s been raining for days now. The thunder echoes across the city. The cars outside are still speeding along the street. Their headlights bounce off the wet asphalt.
      It’s after ten o’clock. She’s been away for three hours. The couch is slowly swallowing her whole. She doesn’t really care. With every inch the couch takes, she downs another bit of scotch.
      The bottle is a deep green—emerald, really. The label is parchment, almost. It’s supposed to look old. Really, it is. A friend has bought this for her. For Christmas or Easter or a birthday or something. A ten-year-old scotch. Apparently very fine to the palette.
      Kay hasn’t noticed. She doesn’t notice these things anymore. Little things of enjoyment are slowly being drowned away in a world of monotony, of routine, of monochrome colouring.
      Rayne has started to notice her friend. She’s noticed that one beautiful glass is always on the mahogany coffee table. There’s always that goldish film on the bottom of the glass. The ice-cube tray is never full, either.

      The sky is so dark. The colours outside seem to be painted over with a grey tone. Everything is so dark these days.
      Rayne hops off the bus as it stops. She forgot her umbrella. She’s got another block to go before she gets to the building.
      Tossing her jacket over her head, she starts the run.
      Kay missed their breakfast at the coffee shop this morning. It’s still raining today. She hasn’t answered the phone at all.
Rayne knows what her ex is doing.

      The rain is slowing now. Kay watches it as she leans forward, reaching for the bottle. She’d planned on keeping this for a special occasion. It had been sitting in her cupboard for a year now. She saw no reason to let it sit there any longer. The scotch was a gift that should be used. She was using it now.
      The door of her place opened. She heard it. She heard keys jingle. Kay stared out the window, a freshly poured glass of scotch in hand, and wondered why she had ever given Rayne a set of keys.
      Rayne saw her friend sitting on the couch. She saw the bottle of scotch, nearly empty. She dropped her bag on the floor, slipped off her shoes, jacket, and wet socks. She didn’t say anything as she stepped around the couch and sat down beside her friend.
      Kay held the glass with a loose grip. She kept staring out the window as Rayne sat down. She bit her lip against the tears that were now collecting in her eyes.
      Rayne took the glass from her friend’s hand and placed it on the coffee table. She put the top back on the bottle of scotch. Rayne looked at her friend through the corner of her eye and sat back.
      Kay stopped trying to bite her lip. Her tears slipped along her face in silence. Rayne took her hand in silence. The storm outside kept raging all the while.