Tuesday, August 02, 2005


His mother threw him out of the house when she found him shooting up in his
bedroom. He was fourteen years old. He laughed it off and went to stay with
a mate.

A few months later his mate's mum got sick of the junkie living under her
roof, living off her meagre income. She told him he had to get a job and pay
board, or leave.

"Job," thought he, "not I!"

He found a doorway which served as a home for a few months, before the
police picked him up for possession.

By the time they let him go, he was thin and pale and had lost the will to
live.

The arresting officer found his body by the river.

1 Comments:

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August 11, 2005 at 2:11 PM  

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