She breathes in, closes her eyes. Almost metal, not quite glass.
Opens her eyes, looks at her phone again. Four texts.
Hers, So Ive yr number. ThankU!!!xxx Too much?
His, U2! x and Laters. Not enough? An exclamation mark.
In bed his diamond smell, her soreness. Burn.
In the bathroom a new taste to her toothbrush, smoke in her mouth.
Her other text, Laters!xxxYes!! Not enough.Too much.
Nothing more from him. He said he wouldn’t be able to text from in there.
Maybe he rang while she was asleep.
No missed calls.
Her feet cold on the floorboards.
Lyn closes her eyes, almost metal, not quite glass, his smell like if diamonds were wet, runny diamonds, cutting, drilling, diamond dust. Not quite dust. Stubble. A river shimmering in the distance, a river of liquid stones.
He said he wouldn’t be able to ring from in there.
Is it too cold to go out on the balcony, even if she did she wouldn’t be able to see the jail.