CHAPTER SIX“It’s legal, honest – you’ve got to try it.”
Michael glimpsed a tiny plastic pouch held like a hidden cigarette between Laroche’s fingers.
“S’called Benzo Roar.”
He shuddered to think what orifice it had come from – or whose. “It’s alright,” he said, “it’s not my thing. I’m not–”
“Like all the rest of us?” said Laroche with a smirk.
Christ, thought Michael. The days are long here.
“Everyone thinks that, when they come here. I’m not like all the rest. You wait. You’ll see.” He gave a smile that wasn’t really a smile. “You sure?” he said, dangling the pouch between his thumb and finger. “Little ickle taste? You won’t know until you try.”
“No, I’m not interested.” He picked up his book and started reading.
“If you change ya mind, you know where to find me, oink, oink.”
He
