#6
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Like a cancer scare In the dentist's chair


     He stood up, her hands sliding off his shoulder and down his sides until they fell to her thighs. The lady slid them up her legs, pulling her dress up slightly before they returned the bag of smack into her pocket. She pushed herself to her feet to meet his gaze evenly, although he was fairly taller than she. 'That, my dashing man, is my best and ficklest friend. He goes by smack, dope, china and tar, but you may address him as release.' A light, tinkling laugh escaped her. 'Heroin!' His next question and statement made her laugh again. 'A hit? Oh, uneducated canine. The smell, well, you'll become accustomed, after all, nothing in life is purely without vice.' She advanced towards him again, lifting out the bag. 'A hit is better seen and not heard. Come, lie and experience what true freedom is.' She sat down again and patted the ground expectantly, before readying her supplies to inject him.

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