More Confirmation

It was a little after five when Leo woke from his second nap in Smith's recliner. He figured he had enough time to leave one more surprise, this time all over Smith's computer keyboard. It was an old Dell desktop system, the kind with a massive monitor that could double as an anchor, so Leo hoped that maybe this act would at least give Smith a nudge toward getting something newer, help him join the rest of the modern world. After all, Leo was human, and though he hated Smith more than he'd hated anything in the last three years, he still had sympathy for someone who was so obviously going to be run over by the real world if he didn't get his shit together and get a computer that could actually run a program designed in the last five years. He held on to this feeling of sympathy for Smith as he stood naked at the desk, his hand stroking his erection inches above the keyboard. He squinted and focused and imagined all the viruses invading Smith's computer as the poor guy downloaded outdated porn clips of cheating married women at three in the morning, all alone in the dark. He squinted his eyes tighter and imagined the frustration Smith must have felt every time it took two minutes to download a ten second clip on his slow-as-shit joke for a computer, the tension he must have felt waiting for the clip to load, the intense gush of reward he must have experienced when the moans of the actors cut through the early morning silence to announce the clip was finally beginning.  Leo masturbated faster and harder and focused on his pity, but he was still having a hard time reaching climax; after all, he wasn’t a kid anymore. Three times in a day was no sure thing. But when his squinting eyes caught sight of the dust-covered dot matrix printer under the desk, his sympathy for Smith and his shitty, pathetic life reached a crescendo that jolted him to orgasm.

Satisfied with the day's work, Leo got dressed and went back to Smith's kitchen. He'd considered it earlier when he was looking for something to eat, but now he was sure: He would fix a feast for Shawna tonight, something sinewy and bloody, something ripped from flesh. He grabbed Smith's last bottle of red wine, did one last check of the house to admire his work, and walked out the front door. When he reached the bottom of the front porch steps, a car, Smith's car, pulled into the driveway. Leo hadn't expected this, but he stopped and waved friendly-like, then watched as Smith took off his sunglasses and arranged a few things before getting out of the car.

He was smiling as he approached. "Can I help you with something?" he said. He extended his hand. "My name's Jimmy Smith. I live here."