Going for it
I’m fucking hungry. All I’ve had to eat in the past 48 hours is some sugary bullshit from a packy convenience store. The place I lived at got busted, cops are swarming the place and I’m probably wanted by now, considering I had nearly a pound of Mary Jay in my dresser drawer. I told that dumbass Jared not to run hoes out of an apartment complex, but what do I know? All I’ve got now is my car, my empty wallet, a growling stomach and this switchblade. I flip the blade in and out and I...