Bitter Aftertaste

Stella

My apartment is dark when I finally get home tonight. It still smells faintly of fresh paint from the new coat that my landlord put on, but I can still sense the lingering scent of smoke, too.

I decide to avoid the harsh glow of the kitchen lights as I plop the wine glass that’s been tucked under my arm onto the counter island, followed by the bag of takeout food that I picked up on my way