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Narelle’s heart skipped as she negotiated her trolley over the gutter into Spring Street. There was the green door. Not just any green door, but THE green door. Behind this door lay her future; her future and her salvation. As her pulse thumped, she smelt the sweat seep from her pores and puddle around the follicles. There surged within her a desperate need; a need she had repressed during these six long months of treatment. The sting of the needle’s grey sludge carousing through her veins had instantly become a need, not a want.
She gulped air. She slammed her palm flat against the flaking paint on the adjacent wall. She shook her thudding head. The shudder from her knees reverberated up her spine. She froze as her confidence plumetted. From the corner of her eye, she caught the movement as the lace curtain fluttered back.
The green door opened.
4 comments:
Julie, I am not sure if I'm reading this story right. Is she a drug addict that has just been let out of a treatment centre, chasing a fix? Is there a drug pusher behind the green door?
I, too, am a little confused. Trolley suggests homeless? Is the treatment methadone? Is she after a hit? If so, I doubt confidence comes into it.
(Narelle is also the name of one of my main characters in my novel, Thin Blood.)
Ahh ... so my double-edged sword is apparent.
I started off with a cleaner, would you believe. A cleaner coming to clean the house, with her gear ... but she changed. Originally, I had named her Olive but changed that as being too last century.
In my head the rest is so clear. That is a trap for writers, isn't it? She has been released from a clnic after six months, into this half-way house ... the person behind the green door knows she is coming and has been briefed about her fragility.
I will try more of this sort of passage this week, to see if I can write down what it is that I am actually imagining.
PS ... taa ...
A friend of mine mentioned 2012 last night to me and it's the first I heard about it so I jumped on here out of curiosity. I think it's kind of sick and sounds like a bunch of skeptical jargon.
I choose to live every day like it is the last because let's be real, WHO THE HELL KNOWS what is going to happen or when it's your time to go on. The past is history, the future is a mystery and now is a gift, thats why it's called the present. It's not healthy to sit around and trip out about when you will die. Stop wasting your time you have now.
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[/url] - some truth about 2012
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