Justin Briggs took a long breath and stared at the blank
white wall, wishing he were anywhere else as long as it meant he could have
Crown with a shot of Coke and a bowl of salted peanuts. The four hours of sleep
last night hadn't done much to quell the throbbing inside his brain or erase
the dark circles under his eyes. Four hours actually wasn't too bad for him. He
couldn't remember the last time he slept longer than that.
"Are you alright?" asked Shelia the substance
abuse counselor.
Another version of him might have found her light brown
corkscrew curled hair and golden flecked green eyes attractive. Not today
though. For one thing, she knew more about him than he ever wanted anyone to
know. For another, her heavy Texan drawl grated on his nerves, what little were
left of them anyway. He never understood how some people could put out a thick
accent and others like him had no discernible dialect.
"Sorry, I was just thinking," he said, hoping she
wouldn't press him for details. His mother was supposed to be there for a
session and she was going on twenty minutes late.
No comments:
Post a Comment