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ISSN: 1941-4137 |
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Volume Four Issue Two |
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Crack Cook On a triple-beam Shaun stole from our school's chemistry room, soda-cooked cocaine weighed to exact grams. His mama waitressing at a twilight diner, and his toddler sister drowsing in her crib, he chopped product on the coffee table, cautious never to waste a grain. How wholly he loved each of the venture's ingredients: his phone's endless trembling; feeding folks who woke to tongues dry as baked slate, to need pleading nucleus-deep; the warmth of bill upon folded bill; cops skulking in civilian sedans; the stupendous spoons of street lights ladling gleam on every ivory crumb. |
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