Glass (Crank 2)

of a relationship with Trey?

Which would come first?

The meth? Or me?

I’m Glad

I have a little of my own stash

left this morning. I’d never make

it through work otherwise. It’s

damn little, but enough to help me

shake off the no-sleep goofiness.

And hey, later today I’ll have more

than enough to make up for it.

At least Hunter didn’t need

attention before I got up, got

dressed, and left for work, three

whiffs of ice my only breakfast.

I know I should eat something.

Just don’t know how to manage

that, with my stomach turning

cartwheels. The meth is only half

to blame. The other half is my

brain, which won’t leave Trey at

the back of it. He’s front row, center.

I’m in a pheromone fog

as I make coffee, stock rows

of cigarettes, mop up a customer’s

mistake. Mindless work, and there’s

always more when I’m finished

with what I’m doing. Except when

it gets busy, I leave the cash

register math to Midge, who’s