Shapely

"But I know someone who might." She took another drag on her cigarette.  "She'll be round here at 10:30 if'n you wanna wait."  With that she flicked her cigarette across the alley, it made a small *plink* noise, its fire replaced with a soggy, short lived, steam.  She disappeared into the kitchen this alley was attached to.

Jackson looked around for a place to sit.  There was an empty milk crate giving an abandoned look to an otherwise frequented location.

At some point he found himself sipping a beer.  He didn't remember where it came from, but that didn't bother him much.  Time ticked by.  Funny he thought, how if time was slow it was a tick, if it was fast it was a fly, but a tick could happen in a jiff.  He really hoped something happened soon.  There was only so much staring at walls and thinking he could take, and he had long since passed that point.  He passed that point about an hour earlier after making up elaborate stories about why there was a small syringe spray painted on the wall in front of him.  He imagined it was to signify this cozy alcove is where the cure to the zombie apocalypse would be invented.  He kept looking around.  Time continued, in its own time, to pass.

"You the girl?" a gruff voice closer than expected blurted out.

Jackson's bleary eyes bounded open.  When did he nod off?  Was he wearing a dress again?  Why did this always happen to him?  He looked down.  Jeans and a t-shirt.  He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  Not a dress.  Okay.  Did he need a haircut?  Why did someone want to know if he was the girl?  He looked up at the voice.

"Is this a... proposition then?" Jackson asked.  The voice, surrounded by an oily beard, did not laugh.  Did not respond.  "Because.  I'm not like 'a night girl'. Or anything."

A few other voices came out of the darkness.

"That's the girl alright.  It's 10:30 isn't it?"
"10:28."
"Same thing.  You're too anal."
"When has the girl ever admitted it?  She's always a flake."
"She looks different."

"I'm not.  I'm not a girl?"  Jackson stated?

"Just give it to her then."
"We've got two more drops tonight."
"Who planned this?"
"You did."
"So don't you think I know we have two more drops tonight?"
"Well, then what are we waiting for."

"Alright girl.  We're gunna remember you this time though.  The sound of a thumb wheel scratching across a small piece of flint.  Again.  Again.

"Ahhhhh!" Jackson screamed in pain.  "What the ...!?  Is that any way to treat a lady?" he wasn't sure what sort of people would ask about a girl, then burn her on the palm, especially when she obviously, obviously right?, obviously wasn't really a girl, but he was very confident it was not the sort of people he wanted to associate with.

Before he could stop cradling his open palm and looking like a wounded animal, which he did really very well, something slipped into his pocket and then it was quiet.

"Yeah, well I'm leaving too."  Jackson said to the darkness.  "Fry cook tells me to wait in the cold, so I could get burned and bored.  See if I put up with it."  He stormed off until the corner of the alley way.  Then he very cautiously peered around the corner into the street.  When he was sure the coast was clear he resumed storming down the street, towards his home.

Minutes later a brunette haired girl walked into the alley.  Heels clicking and seeming out of place.  She pulled out a phone from her bra, displeased that even at this forward thinking time black dresses were made without pockets, holding the small dark screen in her hand she pressed the little button on top.

10:30pm glowed too brightly in the dark night.  It wasn't like them to be late.  She wondered if she heard voices off in the distance?  No one approached.  Without the delivery she wasn't going to make it very far.

She began to vomit and shake.  Her hair shrunk to about shoulder length into her head.  What was once a fitted black dress that accentuated curves became like an oversized hoody, obscuring the smaller frame and the different skin color that had taken hold.  Now a black haired girl crossed her arms and hugged herself, stepped out of shoes that no longer fit, and walked into the restaurant kitchen as it was closing.