Hazel (addictedness) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-04-27 19:16:00 |
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Current mood: | worried |
Entry tags: | grunge, heroin |
WHO Grunge and Heroin.
WHERE Café Beignet.
WHEN Monday afternoon.
WHAT Heroin has to confess to Grunge, and it’s harder than he expected.
WARNINGS TBA
It was too nice a day. The sun had burned off the fog and rain from the night before and left a glorious spring day in its wake. Bright light filtered through the large window glass, high lighting Heroin’s table. He was curled around his cup of coffee looking, for the first time since 94, like one of his junkies. Dark shadows stood out against pale skin, his cheekbones jutting out over hollows that had appeared over night. Even his hair fell over his face in lank and unwashed strands; mothers had pulled their children to the other end of the café and darted furtive glances in his direction. Heroin ignored them. Just as he ignored “Sickman” as it played softly, underneath the busy noise of the loud shop. All that mattered was the burn of the coffee as he drank it slowly and the cold weight of anxiety.
Grunge would be coming. Grunge would be there. Grunge would have to listen as Heroin told him about Marijuana, about a new relationship that would end the old. Heroin swallowed another gulp of black coffee and tasted only bitterness. His fault, one more person, one more heart, and it was all his fault again.