High Dice

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IWAS IN THE TOILET WITH KURT , and I was golden.

Every time those dice hit that plywood wall and bounced back on the linoleum, they read heavenly. They couldn’t go sour if they’d wanted to go sour. I must have rolled six straight passes at one point, and every time they twinkled up seven, Kurt got meaner and banged his big black fist against the inside of the sink.

And I was getting sicker by the second.

I was starting to see halos around the two naked bulbs in the ceiling, and the pains were starting to come chop! chop! hitting me at regular-spaced intervals like labor pains. My mouth was dry as hell, I was smoking one after another, lighting the new one off the roach of the last, and my skin fairly crawled.

The sonofabitch. Heknew I needed a fix, otherwise I’d never have got sucked into a crap session with him. He was a cheating sonofabitch to begin with, and when he was down, it was just that much worse.

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