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the way her eyes beg.
“You sure it’s okay to
do the deal in here?”
Her head bobs. No
problem. I told them
you have some private
news about our mother
and not to interrupt us.
They probably think she
has cancer or something.
Sweet. A little sympathy
goes a long way here.
I can only imagine. I
produce a quarter ounce
of excellent glass and
immediately Robyn’s
hands begin to shake.
She doesn’t only want
the meth. She needs it.
“You can try some if you
want. Where can we go?”
In answer, she opens the
window, turns on a fan
that sits on a small table
by the door. Right here
is the safest place. I’ll
get the pipe. I watch her
inhale, eyes popping
pleasure. Thank God
it’s not street crank.
