LatinosUSA

Not too many horizons when you live in a small home with small windows and thick blinders and only face the smoky ceiling as you sit sprawled on the bed, bottle in hand, more empty than full, cigarette between fingers, more ashes than light.

Work starts only the day after tomorrow so there is nothing to do now just like there won’t be much to do then.

He’s not alone in this. This young man, he thinks now of past lovers and it’s like God delivers a gift all of a sudden.

There’s a knock on the door. He stands, dizzy, about to vomit, and finds his way to the door. Opens.

Well. Hell. It’s been… What, a year already? The woman holds a child in her arms and tells him it’s his. The same whore who ran away with the little money he had about a year ago, just after they’ve done it and got wasted on the same bed he rose from.

Thank you, God. It’s, you know, just what the hell I needed.