Emotional Connections

The Drug Dealer

The darkness closed in on Des. He looked out of the car window and took in the scene. It was a quiet street with lots of parked cars; not much going on. A black cat crossed the road, hardly visible; naturally camouflaged. He liked cats, he had one at home. He looked at his watch. 'Bloody shit, Ryan's late,' he thought, 'I frigging told him I want that money!' Ryan owed him £3,400 for the last lot of heroin and he was keen to get his hands on it to buy more. A stash was due from Colombia soon and he knew how to get some; all legal, all paid for. It was good stuff, pure.

'I'll get Dobbs to break his frigging legs if he doesn't come' he thought. 'I bloody told him to be on time.' Des had lots to do and people to see, this was his busy night. He was a good drug dealer. He sold purely heroin. He laughed at his own joke. Yeh, pure! It was supply and demand. They wanted it, he supplied it. He didn't touch it himself, though, he knew better, but he enjoyed the odd spliff.

He looked out of the car window. A woman was wheeling her bin onto the pavement. He didn't want to stay here too long, people got suspicious. He watched her look in his direction, peering into the car trying to make him out. He bent down low, reaching into the glove compartment for his fags, hoping she would be gone when he raised his head. When he sat up straight in the car seat, he saw the woman closing her front door. He sighed, but was growing jittery. He couldn't wait much longer, ten minutes more, that was all.

It was much darker now and he watched a large moth beating on the globe of the street light. A teenage boy and his girl were walking down the street. They stopped and kissed on the pavement. He felt a pang of jealousy. He didn't have a girl friend at the moment, so he'd used a prostitute, the sister of a friend. They'd quarelled over the dirty bed sheets and he'd made her find some clean ones. He had his standards. He wished he had a girl friend; it would be a lot cheaper... and safer. The woman he fancied at the moment was married, but he drew the line at that. He had his morals.

He lit a fag with his lighter and took a long drag, blowing the smoke out of the partly open window. He emptied his mind of all thoughts for several seconds, finished the fag and then tossed the butt out of the window, following the last stream of smoke. Then hearing a police siren in the distance he decided it was time to go. He would catch up with Ryan later...the little shit!

Des turned on the car engine and purring like a kitten, the car pulled away. Slowly, slowly, like a black panther stalking it's prey in a concrete jungle.

512 words