That was okay. He had her now. They had a lot of time to get to know each other. They had the rest of their lives. He slammed the lid closed, taking t...e time to wipe out the car he’d stolen, moving the seat back so it looked like a much taller man had driven it, moving the steering wheel up a ways as if his stomach needed to fit under it. He changed the setting of the mirrors, wiped off anywhere he might have touched and then brushed a lint roller over the seats to pick up any stray hairs. He. Making small talk about her forthcoming relocation. He remembered arriving at his apartment and leaning over to kiss Chantelle's cheek good night and goodbye, wishing her a safe trip, feeling the softness of her lips and then, and then nothing. He could not remember anything after that. He could not remember going upstairs, letting himself into the apartment or getting undressed and going to bed.He remembered the taxi ride. Chantelle, a little tipsy, had drawn herself under his arm and had. More

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