Complicated Coast Proof Jagged Weed

My words this week are : Complicated Coast Proof Jagged Weed


Frigid air filled her nose, carrying with it the dew and cleanliness of morning. In the distance the birds and chipmunks carried on their relentless war over the feeder. The suns first, weak attempts decorating the sky a multitude of colors.

She was finally starting to feel a buzz, but guessed you couldn’t really complain about the quality of free weedLetting her cardigan fall slack on her shoulders, she lazily leaned back on the garage. The dope making her head the disconnected static she craved more and more as of late.

Releasing O’s of smoke into the air she sighed.

Since moving to the East Coast this was how she’d spent the beginning of every day, getting stoned,  staring into space while coating her lungs with as much nicotine as she could before the kids got up and started their demands. Not that she didn’t love them or appreciate being the one they entrusted to fulfill their needs, they were everything, the only thing.  Since Rick left it was all she could do to get out of bed every morning… okay, most mornings. The babies were always mimicking the question that rang endlessly inside her her skull; Where’s daddy? Where’d he go? When’s he coming back? Where the fuck is he?
He didn’t leave a single damned thing behind.
The only proof she’d never slept alone was the ache in her chest.

They had been happy once upon a time, before the complicated components came into play; the pregnant test, the lying, the cheating, the 2nd pregnancy test, the wedding, the drinking, the fighting, the 3rd pregnancy test, the fighting, the miscarriage.. they had been happy right? She could still see them dancing through the streets, heads back, howling in the moonlight. When did he stop trying to make her laugh? When did he become so jagged? 

Her eyes began to burn with the effort of staying dry while she lit up another joint and inhaled deeply.






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