Stories

          It's storming here. There are ground strikes all around, nearly constant thunder growling overhead. Downpour, sheets of rain.
          My roommate is missing ...
          When I talked to Decker yesterday, he said he was going to work on his thesis in the Writing Center. I left this morning while he was in the shower. I spent all day in the Writing Center, and he never showed up. I didn't think it was strange at all.
          But I got home tonight, during this storm, and he wasn't here. I called his phone, left a voicemail, and texted him. He hasn't opened any of the emails I sent him today (all business stuff - things for our Writing Center projects), and he checks it as often as I do.
          We went to see The Dark Knight last night (which was incredible). I noticed when I got home that there is a joker card stuck onto the screen of our television. It's probably nothing, but no one in the apartment put it there. It wasn't me, or Fenn, and Marie has been out of town since yesterday afternoon. Decker may have put it up when he left this morning. I didn't actually see him today.
          He's probably at his parent's house (they live in town). He does that sometimes. Fenn and I are just worried. It's something we're really good at.

          It's funny, all the stories we tell ourselves to keep fear at bay. The statistics we recite. The jigsaw pieces we fit together to make everything logical and normal. Normal. Safe. Those stories that we hope aren't lies.


          p.s. Decker just walked in. He was upstairs drinking Heineken's with Tom. That bastard.