Paris (Short Story)

At the break of dawn I rise with the taste of blood still in my mouth. I raise my head off the mattress as shards of eye crust begin to fall on to my bedsheets. With my room decorated in brioche crumbs and fashion week flyers it’s hard to believe that work is what we’re here for. Hotel Gustave, the resting place for all my bad habits and the birth place of all my bad decisions. With my door wide open my servant slips through and stands in the corner. Every step of the way his eyes never leave me, with a smile on his face he states “I’ll forever be at your service”. He was a young man around 30 built burly but yet quirky, his name tag read “Eugene” He remained in the corner as still as a statue ignoring every question I asked him Gradually pissing me off as he watched me get dressed. Within seconds, I flare up, but right before I can tell him off he cuts me off and says “I have a gift for you” Without hesitation he drops a small plastic bag in my hand.

He has no idea what I’ve been through

But damn he knows what I’m into

________________________________________________

I yell “Eugene! obtenir le tableau”

Kids today I’m gonna show you how to get high

I roll a hundred dollar bill as my ol’ lady ties my hair up. I blow my nose and clear my throat as Eugene finally seats us at the table. I gaze at my reflection as I begin to create columns with my credit card. I flick my head back and take a deep breath before I snort. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I slip in and out of consciousness. The grin on my face grows wider as I whisper the words “This is the highest I’ve ever been.”

We do this often every day is a fun day,

We get High but not too high I still have to walk the runway

The world around me becomes hazy almost as if I’m in the midst of a dream as Eugene grabs me and begs me to stop shaking.

Mark Anthony Shorter

I’ll give you my whole name

Mommy,

Your son’s been doing cocaine

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