I pride myself in my feel of a face; before she was a tweaker, the - TopicsExpress



          

I pride myself in my feel of a face; before she was a tweaker, the woman with the black hair and the tattered business blazer was Irish. Along with her boyfriend, a beet red weasel in desert army boots covered in mud, she hauled bags of bottles into the midnight supermarket, scavenged presumably from the same place the couple had scavenged the upended oven, coils of wire, boxes, and dented who-knows-what sort of trash piled in a nest, piled like a spaceship made of junk on top of the pickup truck. The man waited for a clerk (one of several teenaged stoned dudes listening to satellite emo) while the woman kneeled before a candy display whispering words, words that wove and gnawed at the air like her nails now gnawed at the blisters on her face. She was once cheerleader pretty, probably five, ten years ago. The business checks of her jacket told me she was still trying to be. She got up from kneeling and said out loud, Wheres the rest of the candy?? I pointed to half an aisle of candy, more candy than anyone could name or dream of. Not that! She muttered to the floor. I want OTHER candy...
Posted on: Sun, 30 Mar 2014 14:08:41 +0000

Trending Topics



Recently Viewed Topics




© 2015