She looks at him with intrigue and hope in her eyes. He starts laughing. Why are you laughing? He takes a step back. Because you are clearly crazy. Fuming she gets in his face. What do you mean crazy? He takes a few more steps back laughing. Well, excuse you, but you let some random guy in your apartment and drunkenly shouted that you want to get kissed. Confused she follows him. So? What’s so wrong with that? He continues to back off laughing as he hits a wall. It reeks of red flags and alcohol. She stares him down. That’s just the wine, it’s innocent, and don’t bring it into this discussion. So? What’s the problem, officer? He laughs nervously. Well, you don’t know anything about me, right? I don’t know anything about you. This is reckless. She puts her finger in his face. Listen here, I do what I want with who I want and when I want it. His tone turns a bit serious. That’s not the problem, nor is it what I said. She takes a step back and sighs. I think I’m gonna go, he says.

She pulls on his t-shirt. Wait. He stops. I’m sorry, she continues. It’s fine, he says. It isn’t. You were a really chill guy and listened to me rambling and I got… I don’t know… Delusional, I guess… And well… It’s been nice to have someone to talk to. Sorry I left you with such a bad first impression. He turns towards her. It wasn’t that bad, it was just… Different, I suppose. She looks down. You are just being nice, saying that. He starts laughing. Let me make it up to you. Come on. Please. He begrudgingly accepts. Good, thank you. Sit down. What can I get you? Want something to drink? Eat? He hesitates as she continues to ramble. Anything is fine. She quickly goes into the kitchen and starts to making noise. He looks around the living room. It’s clean, apart from her a pair of pants on a chair. A few minutes later she comes out of the kitchen with a beer and a plate of some food thrown together.

She starts asking him questions about love, life, purpose, happiness and sorrows. As they sit, they continue talking, bemoaning the struggles of living from hypocrisy to irony and the uncertainty of the future from decisions past and present. He sits up to go to the bathroom. With a smile on his face, a warm feeling in his chest, he slowly makes his way as he looks around the apartment to get a better picture of it. Walking past a window he notices that there is no reflection. He turns towards the clock on the wall in the hallway to see what time it is. As he tries to concentrate, his vision turns blurry. He rubs his eyes and looks again, as the insides of the clock are melting into a disgusting white puss. He runs to the window again to look outside. There is nothing. The voice in his head starts getting louder and LOUDER. As he runs, opens the door and once more takes a plunge into the darkness…

Hope you liked this new chapter of I Write Sins… And if you did, don’t forget to like it and share it, because it would help a lot. As you can tell by now, I am experimenting with the style. Trying new things, touching on the surreal and horror elements of the story. So, I thank you for reading and coming on this weird journey about dreams. And if you’d like you can always donate to keep these short stories free at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO