The Shards of Serenity Read Online Free

prided herself on having four years clean and a stable career at a gas station register. She now hovered over me, with breath that smelled like rubbing alcohol, and D-cup breasts that looked like they were going to fall out of her blouse.
    “Markus, Markus, Markus! You look better than ever,” she drunkenly began. “You know I read your book the other day. That was probably the best poetry since William Blake.”
    “I’m flattered, Melissa, but no, it isn’t.”
    “Whatever, I can’t even understand Blake.”
    “Right. So, do you go to meetings anymore? I go to one once a week, when I’m in town. Haven’t seen you there in quite some time.”
    “Oh no, fuck that. Too much negativity, too much penis, too much vagina. I found a better way, and I’m doing damn good for me and my children,” she boasted, while funneling a sixteen ounce glass of vodka.
    Before I could get up to leave, I noticed a five-foot-four, baldheaded Latino man running toward me awkwardly.
    “Yo homes, why you talking to my lady? This here is my lady, and she don’t talk to nobody but me. Ain’t that right, Melissa?”
    “Oh, don’t be silly! I’m just catching up with an old friend! Markus, meet Ricky. He used to be my pimp back in the drug days, but we re-united now, and we’re having a baby! Isn’t that great?”
    “Why you putting out our business, Melissa? He could be police! I ain’t no pimp!” retorted Ricky.
    “I assure you. I’m not police,” I interjected. “I know Melissa from 12-step meetings. We’re used to talking candidly about things like that. It’s not a problem.”
    “Haha, twelve-step meeting! She wasn’t at no meeting when she snorted lines off my dick last night!”
    “Alright, well, I’m going home. It was nice catching up with you all,” I said, while trying to hold back the vomit from my throat.
     
    Before I could make it out the exit door, my roommate, Simone, sauntered in with two of our mutual acquaintances. I sighed half-audibly, knowing I’d be stuck longer than I wished for.
    “Hey, Bachelor Man!” she shrieked, while we shared our customary hug. “I had a feeling you’d be here. How was your date earlier?”
    “Let’s talk about that never,” I replied. “I’m officially one step closer to my fate as a crazy cat man.”
    “Poor baby,” she uttered, while mussing my hair. “You know Allison and Daniel from the meetings, right?”
    “Yeah, how’s it going?”
    Allison and Daniel Reuben were a married couple that had been in and out of recovery for ten years, due to a reoccurring heroin problem. It was in the last three that they’d finally struck a sense of stability, and become moderately welcome faces to both Simone and myself.
    “Is that Melissa Dotson over there?” asked Allison, as her platinum hair encased her stereotypically vanilla facial expression of surprise.
    “Yeah,” I responded calmly. “She’s a crack whore now, and she’s here with her pimp.”
    “Sounds about right,” replied Daniel, as he adjusted his sweater-vest. “She always was a little off her rocker.”
    “Well before we completely lay into our thrones of judgment,” interrupted Simone, “let’s sit down and catch up.”
     
    For the next two hours we sat at the bar, slow-sipping glorified fruit juice and exchanging mundane information about our busy careers, overpriced living situations, and romantic endeavors. Our friends found Simone’s life fascinating and mine laughable; while I silently found theirs to be boring as shit. As time ticked on and I considered leaving for the second time, I noticed the essence of beauty walking in through the entrance.
    Standing at a slim five-foot-six with light caramel skin, wide java eyes, and flowing dreadlocks that hung at her shoulders in symmetrical perfection - she was the fulfillment of femininity with a natural edge. I stared from afar until she positioned herself across the bar, and placed a virtually inaudible order with the