Escape Artist

Certain she’s sleeping he slides out of bed collecting his discarded clothing quietly donning them slipping away silently like a specter cautiously opening and closing the door hoping the hinges don’t squeak the floorboards don’t creak Slowly sauntering down the stairs conscious of where his feet fall for he dare not switch on the light listening for the bell on the collar of the cat she introduced him to after inviting him inside like a vampire who must be granted permission to pass over one's threshold Exiting out the back into the night every word he’d said rendered a lie each gesture of affection fake a carefully crafted illusion though for a few fleeting moments he thought he might mean them this time In the end she was only another shoe he shoved his foot into trying it on for size to see how it would feel Arriving home before sunrise he has a bourbon and soda from the bar before retiring to his own empty bed celebrating another successful escape from anything real