The Last Days of Jack Sparks
“Her face is caked in sweat. Her biceps and triceps quiver under the pressure of supporting her lower body. This is nothing new – I’m used to wandering into rooms back home and finding her contorted into some improbable position, keeping herself lithe and limber. In fact, this feels worryingly familiar. We’re already tipping right back into platonic domesticity.
I greet her, then nip into the bathroom. When there’s a chance someone might hear, the trick is to flush the toilet then quickly snort ...the powder up into your sinuses before the water settles. The kind of sneaky little ritual that makes coke-heads think themselves extra clever.
With ever-impressive mastery of her body, Bex peels out of the handstand and rights herself. Maria Corvi crawls back into my thoughts, that macabre puppet rising from the church floor, but I swat the vision aside for the tenth time today. I’m way too good at burying things. Guilt and shame a speciality.
Pupils dilating, dopamine levels soaring, I plonk myself on the bed amid the wrappers of luxury snack items that once sat in a basket on the minibar.MoreLess
I greet her, then nip into the bathroom. When there’s a chance someone might hear, the trick is to flush the toilet then quickly snort ...the powder up into your sinuses before the water settles. The kind of sneaky little ritual that makes coke-heads think themselves extra clever.
With ever-impressive mastery of her body, Bex peels out of the handstand and rights herself. Maria Corvi crawls back into my thoughts, that macabre puppet rising from the church floor, but I swat the vision aside for the tenth time today. I’m way too good at burying things. Guilt and shame a speciality.
Pupils dilating, dopamine levels soaring, I plonk myself on the bed amid the wrappers of luxury snack items that once sat in a basket on the minibar.MoreLess
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