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Crack

August 24, 2016

It was 13 minutes and fifty-seven seconds since she heard her boyfriend’s last words to her, which were, “I guess you’ll have to finger your own asshole for a while!” It didn’t come out like he had planned and she felt embarrassed for him. She loved him, Kelly the man from Pittsburgh. The news that he was breaking up with her wasn’t not expected, she had felt that he had better opportunities last week. Yet, for some reason he missed them. which she didn’t really understand why. She would have never broken up with him, he was the best she had ever done. Now it’s over. She thought that she would have to admit that it was the booze or the drugs that scared him away, but she didn’t have enough time. It wasn’t the booze that rendered her homeless, but it was the crack. She craved it. She needed to feel the decaying destruction of her body from the inside out. It was the only way to live, she thought.

2 hours 17 minutes and 20 seconds of being single. She was her own woman, and she felt empowered. The job market wouldn’t hire a multiple felon and occasional prostitute, so she did what she could. She acted felonious. Options were tight on this one, and she didn’t have much sense to try any better. Earlier that day, she saw a glimpse that she thought was the future. It was written on a receipt that she found in her pocket.

Age 43 was not kind to her, and she felt it in her bones. Her head throbbed and she barely felt like she knew who she was. The drugs were doing their job, and she appreciated it, but it was speeding up time to a fast halt that she couldn’t handle. It was two weeks later that she smoked a cigarette that made her feel her age. Her finger tips touched her philitrum and it was relentless with dips and cracks that reminded her that she was not a spry 20-year-old anymore. However, things never slowed down. Single at 43 made her feel discouraged and wasted, but feeling that at 47 would just kill her. Granted she had no idea that she had aged 4 years in 4 years time.

It was 20 years since Kelly left, and this old crack whore was a whore that did crack. She let the time fly and felt every pain of her separation with Kelly hit her with every sober moment. Thank God that she didn’t spend much time sober. The days grew, they lasted weeks and the nights lasted months. She had no idea of time and no idea how she kept walking. The convenience store was a mile away and it took her two days to get over there. Her inhibitions were shot and she meandered on tasks. Time lied and she spend days in an existential crisis with Jesus, who just stood and watched her. Why didn’t he help!? She would yell at him, asking him for guidance. He just watched, as if she were a freak show. Time finally stood still for this woman and she saw her family and her old friends. They saw her and welcomed her in. They gave her a blanket and a place to stay. She didn’t matter to the world and nature can be a cruel bitch, but this woman was in need and the need never came, so nature provided comfort.

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From → Short Stories

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