He whistles round the corner it's that time of day. The nine to five has ended and now it's time to play. His lunchbox in his pickup truck had been equipped with more then food. The liquor store was the next stop but not the fix for his mood.
Come six o clock he's made it home and had a chance to eat. By eat I mean drink his *** finally kicks back his feet. Day three without a shower because there's no one to impress. Half the time wearing yesterdays clothes forgetting to undress.
By seven he's watching Wheel of Fortune screaming slurs at the TV. Never guessing puzzles right and finding need to disagree. His phones been off the hook for days beeping in the distance. Come Jeopardy the urge is strong with more and more persistence.
He grabs the bag of goodies holds it in his hand. Getting excited by just the feel of the syringe and rubber band. He's sweating now profusely anxious with desire. With nothing left to lose (but life) again he plays with fire.