Happy Birthday

Tommy wiped his wet hands on his jeans as he walked out of the bathroom. The jeans felt damp against his body anyway; the air was dense and heavy. He made his way over to the couch and laid down on it, putting his hands behind his neck. He was too lazy to take off his sandals.
The sun was just the last thick orange glimmer of day coming through the window. Tommy swore he could feel it all sliding against his bare chest.

He brushed the feeling on his head away with his hand.
He heard a voice and the feeling replaced. Momma was trying to get his attention.
Tommy opened his eyes. "I am awake, Momma."
He looked up at her and her wide smile. Tommy moved her hand away from his head. He could smell her sweet breath.
Tommy could see Momma was happy with herself.
He could see the dark sky creep through the moving, open curtains. The air had started to stir slightly. He felt thin wisps of that air tickle his exposed skin.
"I got you new shoes-" she began, her eyes were so bright.
Tommy sat up, quickly.
"Momma-" he said.
"And they are blue. Look, Tommy," she continued, as she rifled through the green bag at her feet. "Just look at them."
"Momma-" Tommy said again, as he watched her pull a grey box out of the bag and shoved it towards him.
"Open the box, Tommy."
"Momma-" he tried once more, his voice low.
"You are gonna love these shoes, Tommy!" she exclaimed, her breath too sweet and in his face.
Tommy leaned forward and vomited on Momma's white dress.