white line fever
in pub toilets near you now.
The credit card felt gritty against the plastic window in his wallet. Two luscious lines snaked across the toilet roll dispenser. Right boot against the door and right hand against the wall, he bowed to the job at hand. He loved how bars now provided two sizes of drink straw. The smaller fitted in his breast pocket snugly.
It always amused him that smoke detectors were installed in the toilets to detect smokers, when tens of grams disappeared up noses, right under their noses.
Fuckin ironic that.
Another cubicle door slammed shut not four away. A fumbled latch and a gutteral growl echoed off the tiles. What sounded like a projectile vomit suitably splashed and plopped in symphony with the growl.
” Someone could’nt stay the pace ”, he thought.
Synapses now cooking, the doof doof seemed to appeal again. Daylight in one hour. Bed in one and a half.
Melissa Vowell
Your writing is amazing every time! I’m hooked now, keep it coming!
H M Bascom
Okay, you’ve hooked me. Waiting for the next chapter . . . .
mick8585
Its an itch Im trying to scratch.
Mark German
Nice writing, Mick. I haven’t been following this side of your stuff. Must change that – you really have a lot of talent.
mick8585
Thanks Mark. Its flowing freely at the moment. Just goin with the flow.