Junkie

The girl stood waiting in the dimly lit alley, beneath a wall light, holding a box beneath her trench coat. She kicked a few pebbles with the front of her shoe then leaned back against the brick wall and let out a breath of impatience.

“You got the stuff?” A deep voice said in the darkness.

The girl quickly rose off the wall and turned to her side with wide eyes. The man appeared beneath the light. “Uh, yeah. I got the stuff,” she replied. “Are you the guy?”

“Yeah, I’m the guy.”

“Let me see the money.”

The hooded man pulled a twenty-dollar bill from the pocket of his black jacket and presented it to her. “My contact tells me you’re the best.”

“Um, thanks.” She handed the box to him. “My mom helps me cook them.”

The heavy-set buyer quickly lifted the top of the box and took a large whiff. Cupcakes. Blue raspberry and banana black cherry. He stuffed three into his mouth then let out a breath of relief. “Don’t ever agree to hire a dietitian, kid.” He stopped to catch his breath. “It’s a living hell.”

“Are we done? It’s way past my bedtime.”

“Mmhmm,” he muffled as he stuffed more treats into his mouth. “We’re done.”

The girl turned to her bicycle and lifted her helmet onto her head.

“Hey, kid.”

She turned her head toward him.

“I was never here.”

As the girl peddled away, the monochromatically dressed man wobbled into the darkness then collapsed onto his electrical wheelchair and rode away into the night.    

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.