“Cocaine Memoirs… a novel” is now available to you. Here is an excert from the book itself.
I pull over at exit forty-one in Georgia. Ridgeland to be exact. I need some fucking rest. Still have some cocaine left. Very little. Very little pot too. Plenty of aggravation though. Anne’s car is a disaster. Dashboard lights flashing all day. Brakes and oil and fucking engine service. I pull into this bar/motel. Real cheap. I order a drink. Jack and Coke. I promised to never drink again, but what else is new. It taste sweet. Barely any women. I leave. I get in the car and it will not start. I try again and again it starts. I inhale. My fucking patience is growing less. Even more since I cannot see my father anymore. I went wrong somewhere. I drive like a fool through this dark town. A Holiday Inn and I pull in. Thirty dollars and the room is quiet and they have fucking cable. Right away ESPN is on. I pour some coke out. Fuck it all of it. A little over a gram. Crush and I sniff. A quick shower. I lay back and Elise takes over. I remember she gave me her phone number. I placed it on my cell phone. I call her and she answers and she whispers. Who’s this, she ask under he muffled breath. Is it a bad time, I ask? No, I was sleeping, she says. She does not know who I am. It is Anvil and she wakes up.
Where are you?
I tell her where and she tells me where she is. We are miles away. She tells me exactly where in Savannah she was. I will leave in the morning. She promised to wait. I roll a joint and eventually fall asleep. The ants pack and anticipate their love. The ants hurry and fall asleep. Big day tomorrow. Elise.