The Red Tumbler

Shit.

I had lost track of time and it was dark because the shades were drawn but I knew it was midday. No alarm clock in here.

Where is my fucking phone?

I surveyed the shaded room and managed to make out the grainy shape of an empty red tumbler on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. I continued to wait in quiet contemplation for Nate to give the all clear.

Here I was, stuck holed up in a bedroom in a strange house, trying to maintain silence as my bladder screamed for relief.

A master bedroom with no adjoining bathroom?

I squeezed my legs together. My bladder protested. I eyed the cup again.

Where the fuck is he?

He had been gone way too long. In desperation, after several long minutes of consideration, I decided to pee in the red tumbler.

The box spring was too creaky when we fucked. I didn’t dare to move to his side of the bed. I deftly rolled off the edge and crept around to the other side on my hands and knees without a sound.

Rising to a squat, I reached for the cup and immediately came to two realizations. I had no depth perception in near darkness and I learned why those tall plastic fucking cups are called tumblers.

My hand knocked up against the damn thing and in my unsuccessful attempt to catch it–or juggle it–it flew right over the other side of the nightstand.

The clatter as it bounced off the wall and the floor a few times, then rolled over to the bedroom door, sliced the silence like the knife Nate’s wife would most definitely plunge into my heart when she found me here.

The door swung open. Still mid-squat, I gasped. All of the blood rushed to my throat and I was sure I would pee right there on the fancy duvet hanging off the bed. I yanked it up to cover my naked self.

Relief. It was just Nate.

“Fuck!” I hissed, “What’s going— ”

“Shhh! She’s  coming right back in. You’re gonna have to stay in here for a while. Go in the closet.”

Shit.

Nate picked the cup off the floor, then turned and shut the door before I could stop him.

Excuse me but I was just going to pee in that cup!

Gawd, I have to fucking pee.

I surveyed the shaded room and managed to make out the grainy shape of a flower vase on a bookshelf.

No. He said to go in  the closet.

I went in and crouched in a back corner of the walk-in as I felt around and found men’s sneaker.

Yes. That’ll do.

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