It was about twenty-two degrees outside. The gray sky cast a gloomy sheen across the city and as I looked abroad, I saw no opportunity for a change in the famously sporadic Colorado weather.
         I was wrong.
         There began to drop a flurry of lonely snowflakes, and I knew it wouldn’t take long for it to change into an all out blizzard. A heavy gust of wind swept down the block and I felt my whole body stiffen, trying to find warmth within itself. I questioned my own sanity as I stood on the lonely street corner, but I quickly resolved my intentions were correct as Old Dee came slowly from a red duplex about two blocks away. He struggled to make every step as he relied heavily on his cane to keep his body upright, but I anticipated his company like a child, whose parents pulled into a plaza with a Chuck E. Cheese on one side, and a Hobby Lobby on the other.
         I cupped my hands together and breathed into them, hoping to loosen my stiff fingers. A chill went through my body and down my legs and I decided my natural furnace wasn’t working so well. I jammed my hands back into my pockets and began fiddling with my valuable and dangerous merchandise.
         Crack. Rock.
         Old Dee approached me and looked into my eyes through his bifocal glasses. They were slightly cracked on the left lens. I remember thinking that he must have found them somewhere. He had a lost look in his eye; like even though he had reached his destination, he hadn’t yet realized where he was, or why.
         “What you need?” I asked in a fast tone, I didn’t want to waste time.
         “Five,” he responded. The words sent a sinking feeling through my body. I wanted to scream at him five! I ain’t got no five you broke crack head! But I didn’t. I just felt sorry for him, he ventured out in below freezing weather on his bad leg just for a two hour fix. He had a look in his eye like he would cry if he didn’t get it. I broke a crumb off a bigger piece, and made a point to tell him to bring more money next time. He said “okay” as he handed me a wad of sweaty, crinkled dollars, but I doubted he would remember. He was one of my most loyal customers, so I felt like I was taking care of him. I watched Old Dee struggle back toward his home and wondered how many others would demand a share of the small amount of narcotic. I decided to be glad at least it wasn’t me and head home. The block was dead.
         I didn’t feel much better inside the house. It was warmer, but I had a sinking feeling in my gut. Ray Mitchell, aka Big Mitchell wanted his money today and I didn’t have it. I was ashamed to admit how the bad weather got in the way of making money, but it was the truth. The day before it was nice, but I had to hang out with this girl Asia, maybe my only chance to get a piece of her stuck up butt. How was I supposed to know there was a storm coming? I’m not a newsman. Anyway, that was all that had been on my mind for the last two days, I did not want to be in debt to Ray Mitchell. I came inside the house and felt the warm air comfort my skin on contact. Then I slammed the door in frustration, and Sheree’s came out of our bedroom to greet me.
         “Hey baby, I got thirty dollars from my mom today, all we need is the other eighty and…”
         That frustrated me. She was trying so hard to help me. To help us, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Why did she stay with me?
         I stood there looking at the money in her hand. Two damn bills. Images flashed in my head of giant stacks of cash I had seen people holding, like my uncle when I was a kid, like the videos I watched all the time. I wondered what I was doing so wrong, when would I pull out a wad of money, crisp new money? I was tired of sweaty bills I could count from across the room. I was tired of Sheree’s handing me small amounts she just got from her mom, telling her she would leave me just to get it…
         “Thirty damn dollars ain’t gonna do anything for us! Ray is coming today, he’s gonna kill me if I don’t give him the money!” I didn’t mean to yell at her, but I couldn’t control it anymore, I couldn’t keep being nice to her when she made me feel so useless. I felt like my brain couldn’t hold anymore until I got something out.
         She moved in to hug me but I wasn’t having it. I slapped her, hard.
         The next thing I saw was her lying on the ground, looking up at me with those brown eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen when we first met, but now they were just mocking me, they told too many stories I didn’t want to listen to. “Get up!” I said. I hated to see her so weak, she needed to learn that this was real, she needed to stop believing things would be all peachy, and that I was going to save us. We had to help each other; she needed to stop being dead weight on my back.
         “Baby I’m sorry,” Is all she said weakly as she went back into the room. Our daughter was crying.
         This stuff was catching up to me, I had too many responsibilities and a guy that called himself Mitchell was my employer. I remembered thinking that would be way better than working for Bob at Wal-Mart. Back when I was smoking weed with my friends on the corner, the corner that was supposed to make us rich, it seemed like cash would flow out of the malt liquor bottles and we’d surf the wave in premium American cars. Sheree’s was so sexy then, her body was tighter, and I wasn’t scared of anything.
         I sat down on my leather couch and lit the half of a blunt that was waiting in the ashtray. That was my problem, always smoking that stuff. I hesitated before lighting it, the perfectly rolled leaf seemed to wind the memories of my life downward to a tip I would ignite, and slowly burn away. I lit it while I tried to take my mind to a better place. I turned on my 32” flat screen TV and it was on BET as usual. I watched the video show until I was high and fell asleep.
         My phone woke me up. Ray was calling. I didn’t answer, but he called right back, so I picked it up as I swallowed my heart.
         “You got my money cuz?” Is what I was greeted with.
         “Mitchell I just need one more day…”
“No, I’ll be there tonight, and if you don’t got my money, I’mma put my thing in fine Sheree’s booty, understand?” He hung up, the fat fiend.
         The doorbell rang just as I put down the phone and my prayers were answered. It was my cousin Jerry, and he needed some weed.
         “How much you need man?” I asked. 
         ”A ounce.” He said.
         He had at least fifty bucks. I invited him in and stuck him in the back of the head as soon as he came in the door. Oh well. I took his money , seventy dollars, stripped him and dragged him outside while he was still sleep. Hope he had a good dream! When Mitchell showed up he let me slide on that ten dollars after talking a gang of stuff, but he left me alive after smoking my weed. I’mma get him one of these days. Then I made up with Sheree’s and had sex with her. Now I hope I can convince Jerry he got attacked before, or after he saw me, but he won’t do anything anyway if he knows what’s best, but at least I’m alive for another day.