iron weight

“Here,“ she said with a sigh, a thick grey smoking sigh, wafting the sweet reek of weed through the whole of our confined space. I drew the smoke in full and let the iron weight hold me down.
“Vegas got too hot for me.”
“So the notorious cool of Dallas was your answer?” Delphi laughed, smoke pouring from her mouth as she did.
“I was in trouble. With the law. My whole life was in trouble.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Drugs. Hard drugs. Heroin, that kind of thing. Other things. It was dark.”
“I get you.”

Lord Malinov, Song of Songs

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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