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[PODFIC] Lipstick and Vodka, by Orockthro

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Illya bought his first jazz album eight weeks after coming to New York. He didn’t tell anyone, kept Jazz his secret, not because he was embarrassed about it, but because it was his. It was another two weeks before he had time to purchase a record player to listen to it on.

 After he buys his fourth album, a handful of missions and a sprained knee later, he sits down on the floor of his mostly-unfurnished living room. It’s dark out, somewhere in that time of night when most people are asleep or enjoying themselves immensely, and Illya finds himself doing neither. He holds the cardboard album cover in his hands, the lithographic trumpet staring up at him, and contemplates the unexpected direction of his life. He has records. He has magazines. He has five suits.

 “Have you ever thought of sprucing this place up a little?”

 He also has Leona. Unlike his smattering of possessions, she is non-returnable...

 

 

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