Six Ways To Say "I'm Sorry..."

For Your Loss

Two Quick things about this story:

1.) This story is in two POV's; Tamara's, a 25 year old woman, and Slim, a 24 year old man. I will always label which part's which.

2.) There will only be about six chapters, and each chapter title is a continuation of "I'm sorry...

And please, please, please don't judge it by the first page or two.

Without Further Adieu....

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Slim

I set down my drink, hearing the soft clink of the glass on the rough asphalt. My fatigue settled in, and I took a long drag of my cigarette. Extending my legs in front of me,  I let my head rest against the cold brick wall supporting me. I let out the smoke in a thin stream from my dry lips. My vision was momentarily hazy from the cloud and I tried to relax. I picked up my glass again, which was filled with soda water. I was trying to quit drinking, but doing so had made my need to smoke that much greater. I guess I have what they call an “addictive personality”. I took that label as a free card to trade one vice for another. I sat back, listening to distant sirens calling, mingling with the usual car horns and chatter of the streets. I smelled something slightly rotten coming from my only companion; a dumpster filled to the brim. I drew another breath out of my cigarette, blocking out the smell.

Once I had finished, I smothered the glowing embers of the paper and tobacco in a nearby puddle. I was satisfied by a quiet hiss from the heated end, and I released the polluted air from my lungs. They say smoking will kill you, and maybe that’s what I wanted. All I know is I’m too much of a coward to use a gun on another person, let alone myself. I flicked away the burned stump of my cigarette and stood up. Stretching, I reached out and bumped into a woman bustling by me. She had wavy black hair and a very curvaceous figure. She would have been almost beautiful had it not been for her gaudy outfit and sunken eyes. Her body screamed sex but her eyes cried sadness. Giving  her a curious look, I took my leave. While she was gone for now, she lingered in my thoughts deep into the night, until sleep took me.

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Tamara

I woke up late for my standards. Usually I tend to leave right after my “client” falls asleep. Tonight, however, I needed a comfy bed and this happened to foot the bill. Today I had taken a rich older man who had needed a shag. I didn’t mind, as long as he paid with cash. I looked at him and smirked. He had barely lasted two rounds. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a hooker... usually. I actually work as a dancer for a popular club about a block down. Occasionally, however, the right guy will proposition me, and I’ll go for it. I really need the money, but I try not to lower myself  too much. I put on my flashy street outfit from earlier and took the envelope sitting on the counter. Counting the money quickly, I was satisfied. I stole out of the apartment and onto the loud bustle of the streets. Strutting along, I heard my phone ring. Seeing it was my older sister, I picked up.

“Maria! Why are you calling so late?” I asked, happy to hear from her but confused all the same. I heard heavy breathing on the other end, but no words were spoken. “Maria...” I said with more concern than before. Finally she spoke.