Push (Josh Ramsay)

You chase it

I saw him.

I was sitting there chasing it, when he stumbled in with foil in his hands. His footsteps were heavy and he staggered when he walked. His eyes were sunken in and he hadn't changed. He hadn't shaved and had begun to develop a scruff.

We made eye contact and he began to run, that is attempt to. I got up to chase after him, but my limbs were heavy from the chemicals I had begun to inhale. He stumbled and fell, and without saying a word began to prep his foil.

Seated on opposite ends of the clearing, we smoked in complete silence. The aroma, which I liken to burnt barbecue sauce, permeated the air.

We exchanged nervous glances and I wanted to be angry, I wanted to be happy, I wanted to feel something for him, but all I felt was the heroin.

Everything I cared about was replaced with heroin.

Everything I knew was replaced with heroin.

Everything was replaced with heroin.

I had so many words, so much I wanted to say, but all that came out was smoke.