Track Mangoes

Bruce sat on the edge of his bed in his dimly lit room with his head in his hands and no pants on. The girl was laying back on a pillow. She picked at her nails and periodically reached her arm in a strange contortion behind her body in order to position the overhead lamp clipped to the bed frame to point towards her hands. She had to, at least, be able to see them.

"I don't really know what happened," Bruce said finally, running his hands through his hair.

He turned to face her, but she promptly turned off the light and rolled over onto her side with her back facing him.