Glass (Crank 2)

the way her eyes beg.

“You sure it’s okay to

do the deal in here?”

Her head bobs. No

problem. I told them

you have some private

news about our mother

and not to interrupt us.

They probably think she

has cancer or something.

Sweet. A little sympathy

goes a long way here.

I can only imagine. I

produce a quarter ounce

of excellent glass and

immediately Robyn’s

hands begin to shake.

She doesn’t only want

the meth. She needs it.

“You can try some if you

want. Where can we go?”

In answer, she opens the

window, turns on a fan

that sits on a small table

by the door. Right here

is the safest place. I’ll

get the pipe. I watch her

inhale, eyes popping

pleasure. Thank God

it’s not street crank.