Ontological Damnation

In the accompanying days and weeks, Torrence would sell everything he could, no money no problems as long as he got his fix. Incredibly, his wife did not know of the accident, did not know the source of his gnarly gait. She just assumed he was shooting for the bottom of the barrel, nothing easier to hit than a glass pipe full of fish, Torrence seemed unstable, an atrocity of audaciousness. Before long, even before that, she threw him out and filed for divorce. She would take the children to Florida, where her mother lived. It was warm there and Torrence wasn’t worth the effort. She no longer felt love for him, she no longer knew him, she no longer had the desire to achieve family, she no longer needed to go on the run with him, smoke toiling from the foil, suck it in strong, set the straw upon the throng of chemicals and cataclysmic bliss and set yourself along the crisis full of road.