B is nervous, driving fast on the highway. A thirty minute drive to some man's house. He wants four pills. But we somehow got fucked, like we usually do, and we don't have the exact kind the guy wanted. Jesus, same drug, same mgs. Just not the right kind. B is so upset.
"This isn't going to work, we're fucked. How are we going to pay the rent?"
I am massaging his neck. I am not nervous, I have more faith in him than he does. We will be fine. It will always be fine. But I do worry about his blood pressure. I move my hand from his neck to his leg, and stare out my window at the moon, singing quietly to myself. The moon is a light bulb breaking....I won't talk to him about music. It is the only thing I keep to myself. It keeps me safe. I don't know from what.
The guy bought five.
We are fine. It is all fine.
And I truly believe that things will not be this hard for us much longer.