"All I do is sit and think about you.
If I knew what you'd do.
Collapse my veins wearing beautiful shoes,
it's not living if it's not with you"
warning : drug use
He walked into the store at 9:48pm and reached the register at exactly 9:52pm. His eyes held dark circles and his lips were unusually blue. I grabbed the bottle of milk he passed to me, scanning it before handing it back to him.
"That'll be two dollars." I requested. He moved his hand down to his back pocket, pulling out a wallet. The pouches were mostly empty, however, he managed to surface with a coin. I held my hand out and he placed it in it. "Would you like a receipt?"
"No, it's alright. Have a nice night." He spoke with uncertainty, a sleepy manor to his voice. His green eyes looked directly into mine, he was gorgeous in a sickly sort of way.
"I can provide you with help lines, sir." I smiled softly at him, his face pulled into a grimace.
I watched as he ran his fingers along his arm, almost scratching at something. "I don't think anyone could help." He glanced out the window, probably looking at his ride.
"I understand, just consider it."
He nodded to me, making his way out of the store, automatic doors sliding shut behind him. I peered out the window to watch him climb into an old Nissan skyline. The driver unrecognisable.
I watched them pull away from the parking lot before I turned to survey the next customer.
-
He came back three evenings later and handed me a bag containing three apples. I followed the same routine, scanning it and handing it back to him. His hands were clammy as the brushed against mine.
I wasn't sure what to say to him. I figured he didn't like talking about anything that was wrong. "Have a nice night, sir." I handed him 50 cents change and watched as he left.
-
By his fifth visit I figured he either lived in the neighbourhood and enjoyed the peace of late night shopping, or he was waiting for something.
Each night, the same car would pick him up and take him to wherever; probably to shoot up. I was stuck with many options of what I could do, but instead I watched him get less and less capable of holding a conversation.
•
I find this song quite interesting because it's written as if it could be a song about missing a past lover when in fact it's about addiction.
Throughout this book I've decided to attach the songs that inspire me to the top so you can listen too & see if you feel where I'm coming from.
-A x
