Vox Mentis

Confess you've got no damn clue what came over you.

"I don't know what fucking happened, Jimmy!"

"You never let a guy like that win the first game, Elise." Jimmy's carrying the table. "He gets ahead, it's over. He doesn't care about money. He cares about beating you. You gave him what he wanted."

"I flipped the wrong card, okay? I flipped the wrong card."

"That guy was going to play." Jimmy kicks a plastic bottle. It spins across the sidewalk and onto the road, where a passing car runs over it with a crunch. "He was good for twenty, easy. Maybe fifty."

"Yeah, well."

Jimmy stops. You stop, too. He's a good guy, Jimmy. Until he isn't. "Are you taking this seriously?"

"I am, Jimmy." You tug at his arm.

"Fifty bucks."

"Yeah, fifty bucks." You feel your eyes widen. This will piss Jimmy off, but you can't help it. You're perverse sometimes.

"Fuck you."

"Jimmy-"

"Fuck you, Elise!" He shakes you off, lets the table drop to the sidewalk. His fists bunch. A passing man in a collared business shirt glances at you, then at Jimmy, then away. Thanks, guy. "Get away from me!"

"Jimmy, come on."

He takes a step forward. You flinch. When he hits, he means it. "Do not follow me home."

"Fine," you say, looking away. "Jesus, fine."

Explain to him very calmly that you've always hated having money and you love just giving it away to stupid assholes. Then hand him a dollar to really drive the point home.

You wait until the violence drains out of him, then look him in the eyes. "You know, money's stupid anyway. I just love handing it off to stupid fucking assholes." You fish around in your pocket, bringing out a dollar. "Speaking of, here you go." Then you run, because Jimmy's eyes pop in the way that means you've pushed him too far, again. Your Pikachu bag bounces against your back. Your floppy hat falls off and you leave it on the sidewalk. When you reach the corner, Jimmy is half a block back. He chased you, but not far. You're glad you've held onto your bag. Your jacket is in there.

~

You sleep in Gleeson's park, under a hedge that people don't notice and that has escape routes on two sides. You wake up to a midnight screaming match, but it's nobody you know and too far away to be a threat. You close your eyes and fall asleep to the soothing sounds of someone being cursed out somewhere. Then it's dawn and a drunk is pissing on your legs.

You scramble up. "Dude. Dude."

The man stumbles back. "Sorry." He barely gets the word out.

You inspect yourself. Spatters on your pants, boots. "Dude, the fuck?"

"I... didn't... see..." The drunk takes off.

"Fuck," you say. Great start to your day. What's the plan now?