Kizz

I know her via text messages and snatches of conversation.

I know her when she leaves her flat. When she comes to the front door.

I know the way her fingers brush mine when she hands over the cash and takes her stuff.

I know she does too much.

I know she says she sometimes buys for Valerie.

I know she’s lying. And I know why.

Because she’s a nice girl.

This is how it happens, when nice girls get addicted. When something happens and they turn to weed to cope. I don’t know what happened to Ruby exactly, but I can guess. Hands where they’re not supposed to be, a no turned by force into a whimpered yes, whatever. She isn’t the first one. She won’t be the last.

Way I see it, I’m an unofficial part of the National Health. A public servant. There are waiting lists for counselling, and docs will only prescribe benzos for so long. So who fills the gap between the referral and the first appointment? Me. My stuff’s medicinal. The way I see it.

That’s why I mainly deal to women. Men, boys, I’m not saying always but often enough it’s just fun for them. Dude let’s get high, dude let’s watch a fucking Kevin Smith movie, dude let’s spend a whole night talking in catchphrases…They’re not the ones who need it.

Half the time they’re the reason my girls need it.

Fucking men.