Contact High
He's was starting to question almost everything about his life. Who he was? What he was becoming? Was the unraveling of his personal relationships a direct result of his own actions or the failures of others to accept him as he really was.
He inhaled and let the smoke fill his lungs. Silently counting to ten, three-one thousand, four-one thousand, until he felt the all familiar heavyness in his chest and then he exhaled.
Why the hell did everything need to be so complicated? Sure she didn't approve of the path he'd chosen for his life but after all it was his life and he damn sure deserved every opportunity to live it without any fear of reprisal. It wasn't too long ago that she had done the same.
Leaving smalltown, middle-America in 1955 to set off on her own adventure at the tender age of eighteen. Moving to the big city almost three hundred miles away. She was the oldest daughter, ruled by an overprotective father whose very actions had borne within her a rebellious streak.
She'd never looked back and although he admired that about her, he also resented how he was being punished for the very same thing.
He took another toke and felt the effects of the first hit start to come on. There'd be no answers this evening but a least he'd have peace, if only for this brief moment.