The worst is the stolen time.
You lose precious evenings with your very best friend.
She loses more than the evening. Confidence, self-esteem, hopefulness, sense of possibility: the addiction drinks her future, evening by evening, morning by morning, week by week.
It drinks yours, too. The difference between you is really only in your consciousness of the experience. Her mind is blurred by toxins, yours by fear. The process is just as sure either way.
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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips.
All rights reserved.
This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.