Summer here is hot. And my air conditioner didn't work. It hadn't for a month, but the absentee landlord was just about impossible to contact. Unless you drove to the box where we tenants placed the rent checks on the 1st and waited for him to drive up and collect them.
As a result, I was lying naked in my bed. Or perhaps on top of my bed would be a more accurate description. I hadn't had covers on it since May.
And now some red smoke was drifting in through the open window. Just my luck. But after a long week of work, I didn't have the oomph to get up and close the window.
Hopefully a breeze would come soon. At least the air would move a bit. And that smoke had better not make me cough, or I would complain to... well, someone. I'd figure that part out later.
"This capitalist bullshit will be the death of me. 31 years old and where am I? Stuck in a minimum wage job and a crappy apartment I can barely afford."
There seemed to be an awful lot of red smoke in the room. And why had it coalesced in a column about 5 feet from the window?
"Your apartment isn't that bad."
Huh? Who said that?
"I did."
Oh, fantastic. Now I was going crazy. I could have sworn the words came from the column of smoke. Smoke doesn't talk.
As if my life wasn't bad enough. The stress of everything must have made my brain snap.
"Just relax and let me help you out."
I smacked my palm into my forehead viciously several times, trying to break my brain out of the hallucination.
"Don't do that!"
Something seemed to grip my wrist. I felt my hand being gently lowered back to my side. By a red smoky loop.
"I do exist. Stop trying to convince yourself that I don't."
Fine. I'd play along.
"Okay then. I guess I'd better introduce myself. I'm Bob."
"My species doesn't use names, but you may call me Kelly."
"Why are you here, Kelly?"
"To consume you with pleasure."