A Junky's Confession

I’m a fool, and I admit it readily.

There was a moment when my gaze drifted to my vice – no, maybe even seconds before that, when my sight was still clean and unencumbered – in which I could have made some other choice. Perhaps I could have even stopped myself, but, really, I knew it was there, and I looked, and now I’m undone.

Don’t wait for me. It’ll be hours before my senses return, and I’ll just re-administer the dosage tomorrow.

I’m sorry if all I have to give you is a half-distracted word and an out of place nod. It isn’t your fault my focus was already lost somewhere in space, or locked in my own brain, as if an unassuming pedestrian who’s stepped into an apparent puddle only to discover it holds the depth of an ocean.

I knew it would be trouble when my hand reached for the book, but I cracked the cover anyhow. I could not resist injecting its contents directly into my eyes.

I’m a fool, and I admit it readily – now hush, the plot is getting thick.

Image by Zebra Crossing Picture Factory