Junkies are the worst.
“Look, man, two hundred dollars, right? Two hundred. Just open the spigot for like a second.” The guy was scrawny, but he had the telltale potbelly of a junkie. It’s really the eyes that give them away, though. His were like open sores.
“Everyone gets their fair share,” I said. “I’m not having some woman in Toledo kill herself because you had to soak up her dose.”
He spat and ran outside. I watched him, making sure he didn’t bother the truck. It gleamed in the sun, adorned with the warning sign - CAUTION: Liquid Hope.
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3 comments:
Nicely done.
I liked the concept, but this one frustrated me. I had to cut it down from nearly 200 words. I always feel like those flitterfics are gutted, a bit, but there's no point in setting limits if you ignore them when they become difficult to meet.
The "woman in Toledo" really made it for me. Something about the vividness of that detail. Also, it reminded me a little of this short, which I really enjoyed.
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