The Grim Room

CHAPTER 18 and 19

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

           

Silver had his Omerta switchblade. He was going back to Captain’s apartment.

            He yanked out the blow and poured the remainder of it in a mountain pile on his living room table. This time, no Darnin. He’d been up all night doing cocaine and he was feeling the comedown. In order to avoid the mental and emotional plunge which always arrived with blow, he decided to finish the stuff.

            He divvied up the white mountain with the silver blade of the knife, sniffling and coughing as he did, bugging his eyes and squeezing his nose. “Holy shit,” he said out loud. “Whew!”

            Silver walked into the spare room. He opened the cupboard above the bed. Moving his good arm—his right was bandaged from that bitch—past the box with stolen silver jewelry, he located what he wa…