It
All Goes South
And it always does one way or another. The night of the big
falling out wasn’t far off and I was making preparations to come out with my
head attached. I still had my fight or flight and I chose the latter. Sometimes
the better man is elusive and quite frankly there is no such thing. Women call
us dogs all the time and you know what? I take no offense to that label but I
make no attempt to label anyone.
Most of my free time was spent with Kim or with Mary Jane not a
girl but the plant. Herbage. During my time navigating a huge minefield of
heavy emotions and resisting the urge to forcibly remove the smug look from my
sexually deviant boss I had found a hook up for pot. His name was Dexter Miles,
and this was a man after my own heart. Not to mention his green was the truth.
Dexter Miles was the typical dealer, paranoid about everyone
being a cop and real stickler to keeping his grubby hands off his own
merchandise. But the characteristics I found most appealing about the man was
his chilled manner and laid back approach to life. Nothing so much as irked the
man. He was the human embodiment of I don’t give a fuck and think what you
will. I still couldn’t give two shits about you. And that attitude I could
admire. Kim and Dexter got along much to my surprise and he respected me enough
to compliment her beauty but to keep hands off. That and the fact his old lady,
Tatiana, would aptly cut off his testis if he so much as coughed wrong suited
me fine.
We met at the most unusual of places, at a church. Once again
was I lost and searching for answers. My parents, mostly my dad, didn’t want
anything to do with a drunk, pot smoking, know it all loud mouth of a son. He
was right about a lot of things, most parents are. But I digress back to the
church and my wayward soul. I was at a catholic church and if I had thought
about it then I might have it sacrilege for a Jewish guy to be in a blasphemous
place of worship. Considering that no Rabbi would ever accept this place was
kosher. That last thought left me laughing. Sorry folks. So I got up off my one
knee and glanced up at the crucified Jesus and thought to myself better you
than me big fellow. And as I turned to walk back down the aisle and out of that
place of holiness and what not I saw my dealer to be. What caught my eye was
his clothing and his sour disposition. He looked like he’s seen some shit and
boy had he now.
Outside the church I bummed a light from him as my lighter had
run out of fluid. And he lit his zippo and I said you got something stronger
than tobacco. He responded, “You mean, like weed?” To which I retorted,” Yep,
and nodded. He bided me follow and follow him I did. We reached his car parked
at the far end of the parking lot located in the back of the church. I thought
this was guy was going to shoot me and take all of my money or worse. But instead
of pulling out a gun and busting a cap in my pretty little ass he took out a
briefcase and opened it to reveal an incredibly beautiful assortment of pot. I
mean this was any stoner’s wet dream come true. I took out my wallet and with
much enthusiasm I paid him his fee and got his number for future transactions.
“Hey, man. You seem legit. We should hang out at my place, you
can bring your woman, and we can bake and then we can grub on some munchies,”
his voice bearing a more positive tone.
“Sure thing, brohiem,” and I introduced myself. Shit it was like
Christmas and the first day at a new school all wrapped up into one.
“Okay, Michael. Hmm…not much of a typical Jewish name.” he said
that without snarky condensation.
“Yeah I guess it has something to do with the meaning of my name
and such,” I shrugged that shit off showing my indifference to religious dogma.
“All right, I am going to get back home and smoke this in some of the good
book,” I said sniffing my bag of cannabis.
We parted company and I had a hook up and a smoking partner.
Such good things never lasted nor had no strings attached. In my case it was a
bit of both.
Keeping true to my word I went straight home and rolled up that
green unholy goodness and smoked it up in one evening. Mary Jane came to me in
my mind altering zombie state and spoke words to me telling me that I need to
make a change and get my shit together. It was a terribly wicked high and I
thought what the fuck did I take? The strange thing was the voice took on form of
a beautiful yet unfamiliar form. A woman I had never met spoke the very words I
was soon to hear. Stranger still it struck me as funny and I just sat there in
my underwear and laughed my ass off until I pissed in my pants.
The following day me, my dealer, his old lady, Tatiana, and Kim
all got together for a meet and greet. Kim and Tatiana vanished to the living
room while Dexter and I opted for a more outdoorsy locale. The back porch was
outside but secluded by all those damn tall oaks that it was like having one of
those wooden fences surrounding your backyard. From where we sat, around a tiny
little coffee table that belonged indoors but found its way to the back patio,
we could see the back alley that ran behind my place and keep an eye out for
police activity. I assured Dexter that it was chill and he responded by tossing
his bag down on the glass surface of the coffee table and out spilled that
sweet cascade of green candy. The childish abandon took hold and I was off the
races. He joined me in the feeling and soon we were smoking bowl after bowl.
His bong was smoking up the back porch and if not for the sweet and unique
smell that pot gave off when lit up you could’ve sworn we were grilling for an
army.
On about the fifth bowl we took a break and smoked a couple of
cigs. He was telling me about his next door neighbor growing up, and his yellow
wig and pair of coconuts. This man fancied himself a blond with those coconut
halves as boobs whenever he got drunk and would sing, “I’m a blonde bombshell,
come and take a look at me now,” he’d shout. I stared at Dexter expecting a
repressed smile that hid back laughter at mu gullibility to believe his tall
tale and to my surprise it never came. I just laughed freely then and asked him
who the nutter was. He told me the crazy man that dressed up like a blond with
coconut shell halves for tits was his former Math teacher. And hearing this I
just didn’t know if I felt like laughing anymore or closer to vomiting. He
noticed my sudden revulsion and said he never laid a hand on me. Still I swore
audibly and told him that was some seriously fucked up shit. He laughed then
and I joined in feeling more comfortable with that solemn facial expression
devoid of any such joyful emotion. It turned out he was full of more such
tales. One thing was clear this man had seen some shit in his time.
The night wore on and we headed indoors more because it was
getting chilly and we were hungry than we wanted to. The girls were lying on
the couch. Tatiana had rested her pretty little head in Kim’s lap and they were
telling each other stories and the carefree moment without was fading with the
heavier and more earnest one taking shape within. The living room was warm and
smelled of females and sweet strawberries. The former was a good thing and the
latter was due to Kim always lighting those incent sticks. I was rather fond of
the scent and was reminded of her personal aroma and taste. Dexter interrupted
my quick deter back down bedroom manor road and said the smell of strawberries
was fucking with his hunger. I pointed the way to the kitchen and the
refrigerator.
I stole a glance over my shoulder and mouthed the words I want
you tonight, and she smiled saying, I know. She was a remarkable and beautiful
woman. And thanks to her time spent with me she was strong and whole again. It
was more on account of her being a strong woman than my being there for her.
Still I’d like to think I was a positive influence on her. Even just a little
would suffice. Her smile and playing coy in face of being high and horny stuck
with the remainder of the night. My loins were on fire and I had my work cut
out for me. Nevertheless I had company and one thing my folks had taught me was
to keep them entertained.
We grabbed the grub out of the fridge and made sandwiches and
took a few beers and carried it all to my study. I had a TV in there and we
could watch some movies on VHS. Although by then DVD players were available for
purchase in the US I didn’t have one. So I popped a tape in the VCR and sat
down. With food in hand and a good beer the night was off to a great start.
Dexter appeared to be enjoying himself too. The video we watched was about men
and the stupid shit they pulled when trying to pick up women at bars and clubs.
Whoever came up with this idea had a sick and twisted sense of humor because
his or her sole purpose was to berate and emasculate the guys who approach every
single woman in those places only to be rejected by them all. I mean I’ve had
bad moments where I couldn’t get any love from the ladies but this shit
transcended that. These guys didn’t pull punches and in face of countless
failures they pushed on and took all the slaps and alcohol to the faces. They
were a persistent bunch I’d give them that much.
“These guys are a bunch of pansy ass clowns,” Dexter commented
on this one group of guys who after getting dirty looks from these two blonds at the bar moved on to the next group of girls.
“I concur, my man, at least talk them. Gee at the very least
give them a piece of your mind,” I said amidst laughter.
“For Christ sake, grow a paid would you?” Dexter cackled.
I looked over at him and stared. He stared right back and his
eyes said what’s up motherfucker? I laughed my stupid little high ass off and
he joined in. “I thought you were going to say something, motherfucker,” I
added later.
“I was but I forgot what it was, motherfucker,” Dexter said
cackling anew.
That laughter would stick in my mind for the rest of my days. Nothing
spoke of sheer unadulterated and complete joy then a good laughter. Hell some
doctors say laughter is often the best medicine. We finished our munchies and
once full felt bloated and went back to the open air smoke box. Some of the
neighbor’s dogs started to bark at some unseen noise in the darkness. Those
fucking dogs were afraid everything that moved and got startled by their own
shadow. Such a waste for guard dogs really.
I cleaned the bong and Dexter prepped the next bowl of green. The
night’s chill grew colder still and there we were coming down from our high. Talk
about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nonetheless we hung in there
and weathered the storm that and we pulled on our coats. But once the bong was
cleaned and the weed was in bowl soon all thoughts save for one were swept
away. Once more the night rushed by like a very abstract and picture in motion.
After half an hour I no longer recalled having conversation. So many bottles of
beer were drunk and many bowls were smoked. The only clear image I can pick out
from that night of blotto was Kim and her warm smile and giggle at my state of
being. She seemed to be there and not there at the same time like ripples in a
pond after you skipped a rock across its surface.
I woke up in the afternoon the following day and my head felt heavy
and my vision was blurry and my stomach felt like a lake of liquid fire.
Nevertheless, I had awoken in my own bed and that was a good sign. Lying next
to me was Tatiana and that was when I was like shit. Shit. Shit. Tell me
nothing happened. I felt sick to my stomach. I mean I was already feeling that
way on account of the day after hangover but to find myself in bed with another
woman was a little unnerving to say the least. I tried to get up on my feet. My
body felt awkward and my legs were shaking like it had been partially melted. So
I opted to the next logical move. I crawled out of bed and landed with an
audible thud on the flood in front of my bed head first. I screamed out in
anguish. But in my moment of pain and suffering I got a gift from on high.
Dexter was on the floor unconscious half naked and with his thumb crammed up in
his cake-hole.
I lay down and stared at the stark white ceiling and watched the
blades of the ceiling fan spin round. Once I felt an iota of strength return I
rose to my feet and scampered on cat paws to the kitchen. I took down a glass
from one of the cupboards and took the bottle of orange juice from the fridge
and poured a glass. It trickled down my dry warm gullet and moistened the
inside of my being. I felt like hurling and orange juice was the only thing I
could keep inside me. The sunlight returned and blinded me causing me to drop
the glass on my bare feet. I swore under my breath and bent over to pick up the
shattered glass only to lose my balance and hit my head on the counter and down
I went.
It was at this time Kim had woken up and rose from the couch in
the living room. Her slumber had been cut short on account of my clumsy hands
and fallen out of bed. She swore out loud and then lowered a decibel seeing me
standing there naked all for my black underwear. She smiled and her disposition
softened and I threw her a sheepish smile and glanced down at my feet and the
small puddle of blood beginning to form a tiny lake of rusted crimson. The pain
lingered and I felt woozy but it wasn’t due to blood loss although I am sure
that didn’t help matters any. She ran over to me and slapped me gently on my
cheek, and called me stupid and asked why I couldn’t be more careful. Oh how
vivid and fond that memory is. She cared about me a great deal and still does.
I guess.
Around this time our guests returned to life and they collapsed
in a heap which was audible from the kitchen. I could hear them both moaning
and swearing. Apparently their close proximity to one another had caused them
to collide with one another. Gravity oh you are a heartless bitch. Kim and I
shared a smirk and laugh and together we quickly cleaning up my mess and
tossing the shards of glass in the trash. All the while our guests stumbled
about like stampeding water buffalo in the Serengeti.
As amusing as this may sound it wasn’t a pleasant sight to
behold I’ll tell you what. My drug dealer was red in the face and his Iron
Maiden t-shirt was stained just below the collar with what I assumed to be a
sick and smelly collage of drool, barf, and spilled booze. His mate, Tatiana, was
far better condition. No stench to speak of but she did have a wet stain
probably from snuggling with her bear of a lover. Her face was flushed and eyes
looked droopy. They looked like an escaped carnival act minus all the clown
makeup. It was a sad situation for all those involved, yours truly included.
That’s the thing with partying. The night of the party is all fun and stars and
rainbows but the day after is when the true evil of this misadventure rears its
ugly head.
So the rest of the day was us all nursing our hangovers and
cleaning our soiled clothes. We sat out back on my wooded porch and smoked a
few bowls and relaxed. The sunlight had faded with the passing of the afternoon
into evening and the emergence of cloud cover overhead. Rain followed shortly
thereafter and forced us indoors. Sodden in our wet rags we stripped down to
bare minimum and again tossed them in the wash. The stench of wet and molding
clothes isn’t something you’d ever forget and would not want repeated. Tatiana
and Kim put on dinner while Dex and I kicked it on the couch laughing at some
shit that is long forgotten. It must’ve been awfully amusing because we talked
about it for the duration. The girls joined us and we shared another bowl and
split up in twos and made out.
After the love-making ceased and the conversation dulled down we
congregated around the table and had our evening meal and played adults. In
truth we were terrible at being grownups what with being semi functional
man-childs and girls in adult clothing. There are times in one’s life when you
had to relive your more innocent and wide-eyed childhood days; the times when
you hadn’t a worry in the world and wanted to get older so you could do what
you wanted. Until you reached the age you became legally an adult and how you
spent days pining away about childhoods lost. I guess life being a circle is
true to some extent. Maybe. Maybe not.
The evening concluded with our guests taking their leave and Kim
and I picked up the house. The damage had been done just I didn’t know it yet. I
wish I had known. Maybe I could have helped ease her mind and changed the
outcome of the blowout that was forthcoming. She was damaged in more ways than
one much as I was. And perhaps that was what had drawn us together. Still I
regret not having admitting to myself that she wasn’t really okay.
The night it happened started out much like any other. I locked
up shop for the night and closed my drawer and placed the cash in the safe. Freddy
was there making schedules for the next couple of weeks. Things between us
hadn’t improved much but we were at least civil at work. He had to have known I
was seeing Kim and it must have chapped his hide. His mannerism was pleasant
but that was more professional courtesy than actual kindness. Fuck him I
thought. He had a chance to get close to her and he chose to fuck her mind up.
I played it cool and temper and short fuse I didn’t say anything other than
what pertained to my work. It was hard not punching him dead in the face and
knocking off that smug I am better than you smile off his face. His words about
working at Blockbuster stuck with me and that fueled my rage almost to the
point of bursting. He claimed that his parents were loaded and he could get
anything he wanted but to show his father he could be his own man he got a job.
Of course his family name and money landed him a lofty position of authority.
The fuck-tard was the vane of my existence and I wanted to put him and Mayberry
far behind me.
Once I finished up my duties I grabbed my jacket and left
through the back door. I made sure the door locked behind me and jumped in my
car and was about to pull out when he appeared and shouted for me to stop. I
rolled down my window and felt the breeze brush across my face and still my
face felt warm and was reddened. “What is it, man?” I shouted putting my car
back into park. He approached the driver side and stayed out of reach of my
fists. Smart move I thought. It was clearly written on my face that I needed
just one reason to get out and sock him one.
“Man, I called Kim and asked her to let bygones be bygones but
she broke down and cussed me out and I was drunk. And I said something I
shouldn’t have…”
“You did what?” I paused trying to suppress the urge to climb
out of my car and punch his ass out. “Tell me what you said?”
“Hey, fucker, don’t get your panties in wad. She called me the
other day and said she wanted to make amends but that was all.” His smirk and
smug expression firmly back in place gone was the mock professional courtesy.
He knew he hit me hard and there was nothing I was going to do
about it. I guess he figured I needed the job more than he needed having to
keep making schedules for me. Whatever the case maybe I processed a lot of
information and tried to make sense of what I saw in my mind’s eyes. On one
hand he was in a place to say whatever he wished with impunity. Still I felt
obligated to punch the holy dog shit out of him out of respect Kim and my own
male ego. I opened and slammed the car door shut multiple times swearing at
that pompous tool.
“Look, if you want to keep your job, I suggest you leave now and
think about things. Otherwise you act on your anger and hit me. That is your
choice, of course. But I recommend you keep this childish rage in check else
you’re going to find yourself not only unemployed but facing charges,” his
arrogance knew no bounds, the prick.
I flipped him off and he laughed. I threw my car into reverse
and peeled out leaving tread marks on the paved parking lot. The whole ride
home I felt my rage building up and implode and I hit my steering wheel
bloodying my knuckles which did nothing but serve to piss me off all the more.
I swore out loud and with the window rolled down I am sure that passersby heard
my audible obscenities. I didn’t give a fuck what if anybody thought about me
during my unbridled rage. The singular thought that remained clear in my mind
was getting home to talk to Kim and find out what the ass had said.
I sped down lane and my car squealed to a halt as I climbed out
and took the steps two at a time and slammed the door behind me. Kimberly, the
sweet girl, jumped at my sudden emergence from without. I took a step back and
fell on my ass and rested my back against the front door which still rattled. I
heard her grasp and quickly directed my gaze to the floor and hid my eyes with
my hand. I was pissed off and felt like doing something extreme but managed to
keep my shit together. The super glue that held me together was her. And the
funniest part about all this was my feelings for her also presented me with the
problem that wrecked me day in and day out. Every day I wondered if today was
the day the shit would hit the fan. It never happened and I was thankful to
have yet another day of bliss. One day with her was a gift. She was the first
girl I had felt strongly about. Sure Steph had impressed upon me but I was only
beginning to discovery my sexuality. Call me what you will, ladies, but being a
young man coming of age isn’t easy.
She helped me to my feet and I know she saw my hurt and rage and
said nothing. That was the kind of person she was. She hated confrontations and
cared too much. I say too much because she had gotten hurt. My boss and her
abuser had taken advantage of her kind nature and that very notion was what set
my instant disgust for that arrogant prick. I got me a bottle of beer from the
fridge, popped off the cap, and took a deep pull of the ice cold alcoholic
beverage to calm my nerves. All it did was wet my whistle. She cupped my face
with her soft gentle hands and made me look at her. She smiled and leaned in
and kissed me once on the mouth and one on the forehead. I felt her kisses and
relished in their delicate and soothing touch. The fire that burnt in my heart was
hotter than the flames of hell began to die down. As if some firefighter had
descended to the inferno that was my emotional state and doused the fire out
with some sweet and endless holy water.
I stood there for a moment confused. I didn’t want to tell her
what had gone down at work with Freddy. I didn’t want her to join me in my
personal torment. Of course she had figured out what had made me sink to the
depths of my depth less pool of loathing. She stepped back and her smile
vanished, “Freddy told you what happened, didn’t he?” she said it more as a
factual statement than a question.
I downed the rest of the beer and started to swear but instead I
steadied myself, “Yeah, he did. He told me he had called you and you broke down
again,” my lips trembled as I felt the rage return. She started to cry and her
makeup smeared and ran down into her eyes. She wiped her eyes and fell to her
knees as her back slid down against the counter next to the kitchen sink. I
walked over to her and offered her my and she took it pulling me down. I looked
her face kissing away her tears, and pulled her close. She hugged me firmly and
I let her cry it out. I had made up my mind to personally take care of the
Freddy problem once and for all. The thought of the consequences to my actions
didn’t surface until much later.
We made love that night and tried to reconcile our anger and
emotions with sheer physical lust and pleasure. It worked to a certain extent
but my mind never changes once it’s made up and Freddy would get his. I
wouldn’t do anything to drastic perhaps just a punch of two but that was it.
The truth of the matter was the thought of doing him bodily harm was pleasant
and made me relax a bit. Thinking back on how the act would make me feel is
sickening but I understand my decision and don’t regret it.
I woke up early the next morning and made us breakfast and we
ate it without words spoken between us. Somehow I felt as if she could tell
what was going on in my mind. Maybe she did know what I was thinking and wanted
me to do it. The way he hurt her and how deeply it scarred her maybe she felt
the bastard had it coming. In any case she didn’t stop me from leaving the
house and I drove to work. The drive over was uneventful and I caught all the
green lights. This was a sign from above that my plan was given the green
light; quite literally.
I arrived at work first and was greeted by an empty store and
quiet. Much as it was every day I opened up shop. It was in that moment upon
entering the quiet and peaceful tranquility of the video rental shop did I feel
a sliver of doubt. Not that was I afraid of going toe to toe with the prick
that had become the proverbial thorn in my side. My feelings for him were very
real. So real I could taste them.
An hour later the store was abuzz with customers perusing
shelves of games and videos. I was till alone and Freddy was nowhere to be
found. More the doubt crept in and sought to oust the resolve to play out the
thoughts in my head. The only thing that kept me focused on my plan of action
was remembering her tears of pain and anguish this morning. And my rage fueled
to life and kindled the fire that was determination. I made her an unspoken promise
to take care of things. And her silent thanks were all the permission I need to
act. So I put the plan in motion playing out every possible aspect in my head making
sure not to miss anything.
Freddy arrived a few hours later and his disposition was much as
it was any day only today his smug smile and professional courtesy just seemed less
genuine and more you know I got your by the balls. My eyes flared up and I saw red
and I rushed him and he fell under my weight and we fell to the floor and I punched
him repeatedly and it was all he could to shield his face. His arms were strong
and shielded much of the initial volley of blows. He kept shouting the same thing,
“you’re so fucked,” but I was lost in my fit of rage. I kept up the assault and
found an opening, just catching his chin and he wept out in pain.
And then she showed up and reached down to pull me off him. I couldn’t
distinguish friend from foe and pushed her aside and kneed him twice more in
the abs. He winced and drew back his fist and struck a blow. The sheer pain of his
fist made my head flail backwards. To be honest under normal circumstances I
never did fight much. Not that I was a coward or anything but I fancied myself
more of a lover more than a fighter. Again she pulled at me and this time I
snapped out of my trance and he slipped away still mumbling that he would have
me arrested and how fucked I was. My rage was lucid and if not for her stepping
in and my feelings for her I would have tossed his useless snobby ass out the window.
Also note what customers that had been in the store when this all began had
left all save for a few. The few who remained were young guys and egged us on the
type of people who enjoyed a good fight unless they were the combatant.
She hugged me and said, “Thank you, but this wasn’t what I
wanted,” as she rested her face against my chest crying fresh tears. I patted
her head with one hand and the other rubbed my chin still sore. I kissed her
then and she could see the hurt in my eyes as well as the rage. She shook her
head and told me to leave. I stood where I was and turned my head towards the
door and she shook her head. Again I felt emotions surged anew only these were
sadness and loss. In that moment I knew what we had was dead and gone. In my
fit of rage I had done the very thing I had sworn not to. I swore out loud and
flipped off Frank who just kept on ranting.
I hopped in the car and peeled out. I waited for less than a
split second before I barreled right into traffic, and ran the light, and sped
up with music blaring. A few drivers honked their horns in frustration and I flipped
them off wishing they’d pull off the road and play mister bad ass. They didn’t
placate my ego and instead they drove on down the road away from me and ponded
my steering wheel with my hands and turned up the radio more and shouted obscenities
the rest of the way home. The idea that arrogant prick had called the cops was
not chief amongst my list of concerns.
After pulling into the driveway I climbed out of my car and
entered the house leaving the door ajar. I made a bee-line to the fridge and
took out the first bottle of booze I saw, and popped it open. Wasting no time
to find a glass I just titled my head back and let the cool beverage funnel its
way down my dry and parched throat. I relished in its cold dampness and felt it
warm my insides. My mind was in shambles and all I could think of was her crying
and his smug smile as if he was getting off on the fact I just fucked myself. In
hindsight maybe he had setup this whole scenario in motion once he found out about
me and Kimberly. Maybe I am giving him too much credit. Who knows, right?
Hours passed and finally the pigs arrived. I heard them pull up and
was blinded by the flashing blur of red and blue lights. I always believed that
the red and blues atop of squad cars were there to confuse and weaken the criminals
making them easy prey. I was drunken by the time they burst into the house with
their guns drawn, and you’d think my reaction would be to play nice. Oh no, I rushed
the cop closest to me, a black fellow who easily dodged my fist and kicked me dead
in the abs knocking the wind from my lungs. What happened is all a blur my vision
clouded as I was semiconscious somewhere between blotto and lucid. All I recall
with any clarity is swearing my ass off and the cops talking amongst themselves.
I woke up in a drunken tank the following morning with the world’s
worst hangover not to mention killer sharp pain in my stomach and chin. The saying
you reap what you sew came to mind and I laughed at the irony. I tried standing
but found my legs were all rubbery and head was several kinds of heavy and my vision
was nonexistent. The bright light in the cell didn’t help matters any. I felt hungry
and thirsty and called after the guard on duty, “Hey, what’s a guy got to do to
get a little room service around here?”
Much to my surprise the guard on duty was an easy going fellow who
took his job seriously but not that much. He walked over to me and snickered and
walked away only to return a few minutes later with a fresh cup of piping hot coffee.
The steam rose up from that mug of black liquid. He put the mug through the bars
and I took the offering willingly. I thanked him with a gesture of my hands. He
nodded and returned to his desk and answered a call. As for me I sipped on my coffee
and I felt the warmth return to my body and the caffeine. The latter sent a rush
of euphoria through my body. Stimulants tend to have that effect on most people.
My awareness of the situation became more apparent the more I came to.
