a story by Desirae DePrince

You can’t afford to miss a single hit, a single play, a single shot. The world seems less than satisfactory when you don’t get that special little something that you need, that you desire, that you yearn for…that you live for…that you’re willing to die for. It’s almost as if you can’t make it through the day, or through the minutes for that matter. And when you can’t get that solitary dose, that little something to hold you over, you spend all of your time thinking about how great it’d be if you could get just a whiff of it…just a glimpse…a little taste…and you’ll be able to last a few more hours. But soon those hours become minutes, those minutes are cut into seconds, and before you know it you can’t wait any longer. You need it now. Now. Everyone who talks to you is only trying to deter you from your path, don’t talk to them, don’t even look at them. Just make it to your car and you’re home free.


…where your heaven is waiting – only serving as a cover up for a deeper, darker hell. You see it on the table. See it sticking out from underneath the couch or in between the cushions. You know it’s there waiting behind the fridge. In the freezer buried under the ice. You see the dresser it waits in under your socks and underwear. See that little box in the top of your closet. Under your bed, behind random things. Between the mattress and the box spring. In a little hole in one of the bed posts. In the nightstand under your Bible. In the bible, between pages you’ve hollowed out. In another book no one ever reads. On a video tape or a DVD marked with a boring title. In a computer file named for something it has nothing to do with. In the air duct, taped to the side. In a different bottle. In a different case. Then you remember it’s been in your trunk this whole time! How could you have forgotten that you put it in there so you wouldn’t have to wait until you got home?

When in reality you had to look no farther than your pale skin. Your baggy eyes. Your bruised arms, or legs, whichever you prefer. Your near death experiences. Your lost friendships and failed relationships. Your fights at work. Your fights at home. Your battles with your inner demons, and with the outside ones, too. Your insomnia, depression, starvation…isolation…

© 2011, Desirae DePrince