“and took another profound drag on it” by Sasha in the window seat

Thursday May 21, 2020
5 minutes
The Bonfire Of The Vanities
Tom Wolfe

When she wakes up in the middle of the night, the crickets shrieking outside the cracked window, she thinks about how long the money in her bank account might last, when she might be able to see her mother again, and how her hips ache. She gets up and pees. She drinks from the bathroom sink. She squints at herself in the mirror, hair looking surprisingly good. “Huh,” she says. She pads back to her bedroom, stopped to peek in on Nassau. Tucked into his bed shaped like a rocket ship, he’s still except for the small wheezing chest – up and down and up and down. His inhaler on the bedside table, next to his comic books and green stainless steel water bottle. She leans over her boy, listening to the quality of the wheeze. Should she wake him? He’s fucking beautiful – Larry’s exquisite eyelashes, her mother’s jawline, her cheekbones, and lips all his own. Nassau furrows his brow. Turns over onto his side. Coughs. She tiptoes out of the room.

“sometimes enlightenment” by Sasha on her couch

Tuesday, October 1, 2013
5 minutes
Grand Theft Auto 5

Mom’s wearing her pink velour sweatsuit. She’s sucking on her electric cigarette, then a Werther’s Original, then her inhaler, the blue one. Her platform running shoes have sparkly gold laces. Florida is hot and tastes like Orange Julius. I got here on July twenty-first, at least, that’s when I left Toronto. I’m not sure when I got here. Toronto tastes like Spadina and Dundas. So, I say to her, “Mom, you want some lunch?” She’s on the electric cigarette. “There’re cabbage rolls in the freezer.” She’s wearing her pink sunglasses, with the bedazzled frames. “Then we’d have to defrost them, right?” I continue, “It’s already two, you should eat. The doctor said you should eat at the appropriate meal times.” She’s onto a Werther’s. “If you’re hungry, just say so!” She shrieks, hauling on the inhaler.