cracK shacK
short stories n monologues

throwing your life away

car idles in the driveway . same time , each friday .
a dullish , inconspicuous four – door sedan .
a hunch / d n hood / d figure shuffles to the door
w / hands holding something in his pocKets .
doorbell . in . neighbors peeK ; lift blinds . they
were young once , too . out . neighbors whisper .
aunty ‘ s quilt – made w / love before she past –
carelessly hammer / d , stapled n draped across
the single – paned window . Kills sunlight , dead .
the same four – door sedan idles in the driveway , again .
doors slam n feet shuffle . doorbell . in . he brought a guest .
he introduces you to her as his customer . she smiles w /
pity in her pursed lips . your smirK of courtesy cramps
at the unspoKen truth ; the only commonality you share
w / the dealer is the powder / d substance he Keeps in
a shoe – box shoved under the passenger seat . shh . out .
expunged rent liKe the hallway hooligans who drop / d
out of high school to beg for handouts to trade for
heroine . banK account burnt – out thru a straw . the sun
is up . his shoebox is full of flaKy bills , now .
phone is off . you haven ‘ t come down .

 

 

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