Morning Came

Sharon looked at the apocalyptic sky and wondered where the fuck she was. A chill ran through her cramping body as she shuttered against the pain of her existence. Moving her tired and swollen eyes to the area immediately around her she saw, abandoned tires, a mound of gravel, blocks of haphazardly cut wood, torn black garbage bags oozing out restaurant detritus and one of her battered shoes three feet from her prone body. A subway rolled noisily by on an aboveground stretch of track, shaking the ground beneath her, making her cringe. Lately this and similar scenes had been her wake up. Dope sick, barely able to see straight, uncertain, suicidal, confused, pain in every inch of her broken body. The dope she had been copping seemed worse than ever, some new fentanyl analogue mixed with a benzo on