The anxiety was beyond belief; he was almost drooling! He wiped his chin, trying to make sure no one saw his shameful actions.
He wanted it more than life itself, and the excitement almost made him foul himself. He hurried down the dark street headed towards a certain future, one in which, in his tortured mind, he had some control.
But sadly the reality was far different. There was no control, only fever.
The small package owned him body and soul. The money was thrust into the outstretched hand, and in return a spoon, a needle, oblivion with death his future.