Copyright ©2007 Alice Gaines
An Authorized Excerpt

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Shit, would the guy from the next apartment ever come so she could get some sleep?

Phyllis Green turned on the lamp beside her bed and looked at the alarm clock. Midnight, and she had to get to the studio first thing in the morning. Her neighbor and his date had been going at it all night. Staying power was one thing, but weren’t guys supposed to report erections lasting more than four hours?

“Fuck me, Howie,” the woman hollered. “Fuck me, fuck me!”

“I’ll fuck you,” Phyllis muttered as she climbed out of bed. “Show your face around me and you’ll get royally fucked.”

The noise didn’t abate. Instead, the sound of his headboard crashing against the wall joined in the chorus of lust. Great. Just great.

She walked through the dark hallway to the kitchen and switched on the overhead light. Eventually, he would peter out, no pun intended. What goes up must come down and all that. Maybe some warm milk would relax her enough to get right to sleep once he did. After pulling a saucepan down from its hook and setting it on a burner, she opened the fridge and searched around for the milk.

When she found it, she pulled it out and gave it a good sniff. The sell-by date had passed, but not by too much. Should still be good. After pouring some into the pan and turning on the burner, she waited for it to come up to temperature.

Hey, wait a minute. A picture of a gray-haired little, old lady stared back at her from the milk carton. Didn’t they put missing kids on there?

The picture’s mouth opened. “Phyllliiisss.”

Shit. She dropped the carton, and milk puddled on the floor. “Who’s there?”

“Phyllliiisss.” This time from the toaster. First, her food. Now, the appliances.

The same face appeared there, but kind of spread out to fit the surface. Phyllis ran her hands over her eyes. This was all some dream. If she went into her bedroom, she’d find herself sleeping soundly. The guy next door wasn’t fucking some woman’s brains out, and the toaster didn’t have a face on it.

On the stove, the saucepan boiled over, filling the kitchen with the smell of scalded milk. She jumped as quickly as she could to turn off the burner and ran back into the bedroom.

She wasn’t sleeping soundly, and the guy next door was still fucking that woman’s brains out. But, she wouldn’t go back into that kitchen until daylight. She jumped into bed and pulled the covers up over her head.

“Phy… oh, what’s the point?”

The voice came from directly above her, and Phyllis pulled the covers back just enough to look. An entire little old lady, or the ghost of one, hovered near the ceiling.

“Who the hell are you?” Phyllis said.