In Situ

In Situ

“Fucking—Fucking shit—” Michon lunged as much as he was able in order to reach his cellphone on his nightstand. Well, it wasn’t his nightstand— It was hers. But she was gone. Michon didn’t have a nightstand. Or an end table. Or really much of anything but a bed. Before she started staying with him pretty regularly it was just the one, big industrial window (no curtains), and…