By Jeffrey A. Paolano
Having wrapped a gum band about her emaciated bicep, quavering Sheely tears open the Green Ivy stamp. She deposits the shit on a spoon, applying a butane torch. She draws the melt juice into a syringe.
“Com’on baby, take up a little mellow.” Indirectly encouraging her daughter’s smack-induced procuring promiscuousness.
Ratha presents her foot. “You want the shot between your toes?” questions her mother.
The skag courses through Ratha, expressing within her a soft blissful graciousness, eradicating all wretchedness while instilling complete serenity. Obliterating from Ratha’s consciousness all the abysmal facts of her dismal life, replacing them with hallucination impelled fancying.
A gritty tale of forced addiction, Jeffrey. Grimly true to life, unfortunately. Nice job.
Mr. Warner:
Glad its not me and hoping its not you.
Jeff