Alaska

It was the kind of party that makes you feel like someone just for being invited. Then you arrive to find it’s just the big fish from a stagnant backwater pond crammed into one house like sardines. B-grade celebrities in a town that no one's ever heard of. It wasn’t shit but it wasn’t that good either. I spent the better part of the night watching those big fish floundering around in their swamp of rotting social graces. I tried it on of course, but even the smell of that swamp was unbearable and my gag reflexes betrayed me every time. So I gave up and explored the house with a girl who said she had some good speed she wanted to share with someone, but she didn’t want to have to share to it with like, everyone.

We found a bedroom and slipped inside. She took a set of keys from her bag and begun scooping the soft crystals between her lips.

I think this is my ex boyfriend’s room, she said, handing me the key laden with my own small mound.

She opened a bedside draw, removed the modest stash of condoms and proceeded to fetch a safety pin from her bag.

It’s ok, no one will even remember if they catch us, she assured me.

I felt uneasy that as us I’d already been implicated.

Sounds from the party forced their way in through the crack under the door, making the silence between us all the more blatant. Not knowing what to say or do, I studied the luke warm mug of wine in my hands as if it may contain suggestions.

I love this song, she started not looking up from the condoms she had begun methodically stabbing with a single pin prick each.

I don’t know it, I admitted.

I like the way it makes me feel.

It’s kind of depressing, though?

Yeah, but I think sometimes we don’t really give a fuck about what it is we actually feel. We just want to know that it’s ok to feel that way.

This song does that for me. She offered, stabbing the last of the condoms.

Her massacre complete she looked up, startled by my presence.

Do you want some more speed then? She asked as she returned the condoms to the draw.