After injecting, over time, ounce after ounce of cocaine into my arms, legs or wherever I could hit a vein I was in a bind. Kind of.

Over the last so many months I had arranged deals with different people at different times to sell cocaine for them. Nice sized quantities of coke given to me on credit, so to speak. Not too big. Four, five, six ounces at a time.

Only the people I got it from changed. The game remained the same.

I used most of it myself. Which led to a break from reality. I lived in a world of non reality and it was closing in on me. I needed to leave Miami and right now. I didn’t.

As the months rolled by several people from South American countries I could not locate on a map wanted to hurt me. That was the word on the street. After dodging them all for months, one found me. One had many with him.


I was being urged out of the closet by a nine millimeter pistol. I owed these people thousands from several deals. Always getting another chance when cornered. I needed their greed to help me. One more time. They wanted their money. I said…..

“Listen, I got ripped off.” Last time it was stolen. “I trusted someone and they did me bad. Give me a chance to get your money back for you, all of it. I mean it this time.”

“If you could give me four ounces, a quarter pound, of coke I will have the money in a day or two. Promise. No doubt. You know where I live now,”

I am talking for my continued so so health.

They wanted their money. They had more coke than outlets. The deal was made. I promptly got a hotel room, for privacy and began to shoot me some coke. 36 hours later I am shot out. Done with it, for now.

As a side note, I needed a drink, a soda. Went to the lobby and the clerk was asleep. So I went up to my room, got a screw driver. I always carried pry tools, for banking purposes.

Went back to the lobby, popped the cash drawer and left the building with the cash and checks. He was still asleep.


I still had over two ounces left. Made a phone call and sold it very cheaply. Threw my duffel bag over my shoulder and headed to the bus station.

Bought a ticket to Atlanta. I made it, home free. That was close. Right?

I got a hotel room in ATL and had thousands of dollars in my pocket but no coke. Ever hear about crack cocaine? Here I am in a new big city and I don’t know anyone. More, nobody knows me.

But I can spot a dope fiend a mile away and I did. Starting that night I spent all the money I had over two days on crack, liquor and my new lady friend. She was very nice. We were in love then split up. Bye baby.


Days later it’s check out time. Where does the time go? So at noon I am homeless with seven dollars and change in my pocket, hungry as hell and a bag over my shoulder.

With all my worldly possession within the bag I go into a diner, sit down and order some food and coffee. Just like a normal person would. I looked normal, as my appearance mattered to me. Especially for income.

“Well my man, here we are again. No money, no body and no place to go in a strange city. In a cruel hard world.”

My favorite place to be, evidently. Time to shift gears. Let the games begin. Time to go to work. I had checks so I couldn’t be broke, I had ID’s. Perhaps I should go into banking, again. Soon it will time to leave Atlanta.


I currently have a website showing people about internet marketing. It’s called Freed To Soar. You do know the above is fiction, correct?