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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1884438
by Aarron
Rated: E · Poetry · Detective · #1884438
Inspired by a slightly famous detective...just slightly famous XD
A sigh of ecstasy escape my lips and my head rushes with scenes of impossible realities.
Almost feeling my pupils dilate; I stare at the ceiling with a newfound serenity.
The familiar sting in the arm fading into the paradise of pleasure and sensation.
My room-mate walks in, stops and stares before regarding my entirety with a combination of disgust and pity.
Voicing his disapproval at this repeating occurrence despite the fact he knows his words are falling on deaf ears,
His concerns are warped and slow forming to my ears, as if he were speaking in slow motion.
I wonder if that was a tear in his eye. But why should he weep for me? Least of all hide it by leaving the room.
Knowing that I abhor the tedium of ordinary life as an extraordinary individual and that I must stimulate my mind when nothing presents itself to me.
Dismissing his irrelevant, although somewhat valid, concerns, I return to the sensations of heaven on earth.
Slouched in my armchair, my head resting heavily on the back, my fingers lazily stuff tobacco into my pipe in preparation to ease the come-down.
Already feeling the world returning to me, my lazy eyes look down to the hypodermic sitting on the small table next to its leather case.
Wondering if an overdose was likely to occur should I inject again, I regard the pipe and needle and weigh my options.
Even if an overdose were to occur, my room-mate would soon come to my aid,
As a man of experience in medicine, he has met many a case of over dosage and saved the afflicted person.
So then…with a man such as he in the next room, knowing he would not be adversely affected by having to revive his friend in such a dilemma; my hand drops the pipe and curiously hovers over the needle that invites me so…
© Copyright 2012 Aarron (shadowscarab at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1884438