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Hot Coffee

.. just tried a Vanilla Laté from a sample packet we got in the mail. Basically just tasted like a sweet drink. I'm happy with a decaf capuccino. Decaf because I'm 'sensitive to caffeine', which means rather than being pepped up by coffee I just freak out.

In the absense of any real blog post here is another section of that story...


2

She had a few dollars left over and decided to pass up dinner for a trip into the city.

The lights in the Night-Rider were blue and surreal and Viv wondered why it was so important that people didn’t hit up on buses that they would make the interior gloomy like that, so that everyone was tinted blue like a corpse. People seemed scared of her kind of thing; they’d rather travel around in a big glowing pill than see a spoon or a needle. Those things were familiar to her, they were no big deal.

The ticket machine had read 12:17. Her cravings were niggling and tugging at her and she was thinking a lot about this new Asian stuff; her body was clearly wondering why she had heroin resting in her pocket but not in her system and growing increasingly frenzied about it, but the money had been hard to come by and the stuff looked promising and she wasn’t going to waste it in some stinking alley-way.

The city was her favorite place. In the suburbs, if you were grimy and unkempt people stared and it was the worst thing in the world. Viv was born in the suburbs, and she would go around thinking she was just another one of them until they looked at her like that and the spell was broken. In the city, if you looked homeless, people would not stare at you: they’d go at great lengths to look the other way, or skirt around, or cross to the other side of the street. This had been most evident when she’d tried begging a few times; there’s nothing more reviled by city people than a homeless person asking for money. If they justified this hatred by reasoning that they would only be contributing to an alcohol or drug problem they were partially right – but if they had any idea what withdrawal felt like, they’d empty their pockets.

When begging, the ability city people have to put on the blinkers is your first and biggest obstacle. Most of the time Viv wasn’t begging, and in those instances, she didn’t mind it at all. She felt like a passive observer of something intricate and beautiful that worked like clockwork. In the day, the city was crawling with people. At night, when the people have gone home or have drawn themselves up in buildings, the lights come out and reign over everything. Sometimes, in the limbo between midnight and morning, it seemed as if she was the only one left in that whole vast expanse: it was hers for the taking. Folded against the window in the back of a Night-Rider bus, she was headed towards that place.

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