The Blossoming Of Veronica - Part Five: Hunger
March became April. Winter surrendered. Desire became hunger. And waiting? The waiting is the hardest part. The soft glow of streetlights filtered through the window, casting flickering shadows on the ceiling. The air was thick with the slow, curling tendrils of smoke, the sharp, earthy scent of weed wrapping around us like a blanket. The big rift in their marriage, she had said; his love for herb, juvenile and immature in her eyes, her love for booze—“not around my daughter!” Alice lay beside me, naked but unsuggestive, satisf...