Brandon Glossop

He talked quickly and enthusiastically as the cocaine dripped down the back of his throat, and he knew he was trying to impress the drug dealer. He told him how the world shook if you were close enough and the blast was strong enough—how up and down got mixed up and there was only colors and heat. He told him how dirt and debris showered down on you, tapping on your helmet, and how for a moment it sounded and felt like rain. He told him about the few seconds of silence that followed, but then the apartment buzzer rang, and he instantly remembered her, waiting outside for him and the heroin.