Quiet Little Monsters

Finn Watson

Dolly mumbled and whispered when she slept. It was like the walls she encased herself in were torn down as she spoke. Illogical sentences. Words with words that meant nothing to anyone. I listened quietly from my bed two feet away as she rambled.

"She doesn't like that. Lily will never like me. Not like I like her."

"Marry me. No. Marry me. No."

"Wendell is the worst boss. Never any toner. Business trips. Fuck them."

I stifled laughter and turned on the television. It was morning and her talking had woken me again. I settled on watching an old action movie. Dolly continued to toss and turn, occasionally muttering something about business trips or ink toner. I guessed that there were many people on business staying at the bed and breakfast we were lodging in.

Dolly awoke not very soon after I had turned the TV on. Her wide hazel eyes found mine. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept all night.

"You okay?" I asked her. She seemed to be concentrating for another moment, her eyes zeroing in on my face. "Next time we get another empty motel, okay?"

I nodded, "You should have said something," I told her quietly. She rubbed her eyes.

"Should we get going?" she finally asked, getting up out of bed. Her long legs were stuck to her granny nightgown and I tried not to look as she fixed it, hiding her silhouette and giving me a hard look before she goes to the bathroom.

/Finn Watson



Finn smoked a cigarette as he drove. The rolled down windows blew the wind into my hair and the oncoming heat of the sun made my skin sparkle with warmth. I let my hand hover out of the car, letting it fly with the wind. Finn finished his cigarette and flicked it out.

"You ever smoked?" he asked from the corner of his mouth which still emanated smoke.

"Yep. I have," I said, "I actually had a habit of it."

"How'd you quit?" he asked.
"There was once this girl who came in the café. She was crying. She just sat in the corner with her raspberry scone and cried. I read her thoughts: her dad died of lung cancer. Smoked his whole life. So I put my stuff down and went to the back. I smoked my last cigarette and cried with her, all by myself."

Finn stared at me. "You know the most heartbreaking shit," he muttered, lighting up another cigarette.

"Not heartbreaking enough, I guess," I remarked as he took a long drag.

"I'm doing what you did. This is my goodbye cigarette," he muttered, "You want one last drag before we officially become quitters?"

"I already am a quitter," I said.

He smiled and finished it, before tossing his entire cigarette pack out of the car and driving ahead. "So you just quit smoking, just like that?" I asked him.

"I've attempted quitting a lot. Maybe this'll be it," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

I laughed and he smiled. He grabbed my hand which was between us. I felt the static of energy and need flow between us, my sentiments doubled with his in my chest. You make me better. And I'm not sure if I like it just yet, he said in my head.

I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder, deciding I needed a nap.