He tapped his tongue against the blunt's peels, sticking the paper to itself, levelling the blunt so nothing spilled out the hole at the end. The whole process had taken about twenty-one minutes and he was counting. The drive back from where he purchased his green snack, to get settled and use the bathroom. He would itch the scab behind his ear every ten seconds, on the dot. It was itchy.
He was now using the lighter to further meld the parchment together, running the tip of the flame across the length of the crease. His teeth began to chatter. It wasn't windy enough to affect the rolling process, but the open window definitely created a draft. It had to stay open though. The dinge of smoking weed was like moss covering the walls. Surrounding him, closing in, the moldiness growing with each weekend haunted by the smoky fumes.
Each minute he would itch the other ear to mark the timestamp. It didn't have a scab on it. He would always have a scab behind one of the ears, if one healed, he would have already started on the other one. The healthier ear was red, but the skin wasn't broken. Unlike the other.
An uncomfortable jittering shiver rose in his back like a warmth. The drive to satisfy this feeling was crippling. Just rip it. Just get it over with. The warmth kept rising, an inflammation of infection. Spider's crawling up into his mind and scattering, laying eggs, and roaring like lions. Clambering his insides like a vibrating gong. All of the pressure centering in the scab. He had to itch it. But he had to wait exactly ten seconds before doing it.
The scab ripped with one hand as he put down the wrapped blunt with the other.
Shit, he thought.
It began to seep a whitish orangeness. The cool air found its way to the raw skin and stung it which threw off his internal count. He cursed under his breath, imagining himself standing up and punching downward on the table in front of him until his knuckles cracked. Until they bled the splintering bone all over the carpet. He slapped himself out of it.
YOU ARE READING
Crossed
General FictionDrug-induced erotica, the building of a relationship, the exploration of sexuality, the fall of the junkie. A very cerebral storytelling style, intellectual commentary, and vicarious smut.
