The evening air was thick with summer. Heat and humidity gave the night air a thick, sticky haze as the Chicago skyline twinkled in the distance. .

Amanda Snyder, a tattooed, Betty Page wannabe, sat on back porch sipping a beer. The back door creaks open.

Julie sulked out and plopped down next to Amanda, her roommate and closest thing to a best friend. She snatched Amanda’s beer out of her hand and sucked the rest of it down. Amanda smiled as she pulls out her bong.

“Looks like somebody is ready to get lit tonight.”

“Hardly,” as Julie belched. “After what I just tried to clean up in that bathroom, you’d be drinking too. How did I let you convince me to live in this dirt bucket? It’s disgusting and creepy as fuck.”

“Our rent is hella cheap. Any other complaints?” Amanda countered as she sucked down another bong hit.

“Did I mention that Chicago sucks, too? You can’t even see the stars...or the moon in this freakin’ city,” Julie continued as she stared up at the dark sky. No stars. No moon.

Amanda took a breather from the bong and eased back into her chair, well on her way to being zonked assuming Julie stopped bitching…which she knew wasn’t going to happen yet. So Amanda imagined she could turn down Julie’s yapping like the volume on a TV. That thought made Amanda giggle then burst into a gut-busting laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Never mind,” Amanda replied as the laughing fit passed. “You wouldn’t see the moon tonight, sugar plum, even if we were back home in good old Iowa City.” 

“Why’s that, smarty pants?” Julie shot back.

Amanda took another deep hit off the bong before answering. As she spoke, pot smoke curled from her nostrils, “First night of the new moon...”

Julie fanned away the pot smoke in her face as she got up.

“…Very mysterious, very mystical, very sexy,” Amanda finished. 

“You’re such a freak-a-zoid. I’m going to bed.”

“Always and forever...Thought the princess was taking a bath?”

“Have you seen that nasty ass stain on the wall in the bathroom?”