This story was published elsewhere by me.
(Please be advised: This is a story for adults only as it contains violent scenes, sexual activity, profanity and scenes of hard drug misuse. Enjoy!)
(Dedicated to everyone)
Thursday, February 8, 2018
London,
The Dorchester Hotel,
Penthouse Room,
8:18 P.M.
Looking impassively past his reflection on the double glazed window glass, Samuel Rosenthal gazed out over the glistening nighttime London city lights below. Blotches of falling misshapen snowflakes drifted against the window as they fell down from the night sky to fall upon the city below. He drew in a short nasal inhale then took a sip of the smoky twenty year old Macallan whiskey from the pristine cut glass cup in his hand. Samuel winced at the sound of Kenneth Willis switching between music tracks on this luxurious penthouse suite's expensive stereo system. Samuel noticed Stuart Gallo and his girlfriend reflected on the glass, Tiffany Shaw was sat on the huge soft sofa with him, fully clothed, holding his waist between her trousered thighs. Their faces millimetres close, lips whispering sweetly to each other and their soft laughter. Tiffany had flown in from the States just to be with Stuart here in London. Samuel's heart ached witnessing them, he took in another sip of whiskey, his eyes intrigued by the glistening view. Nicola Peel would probably visit before going clubbing with her girlfriend. Samuel and his crew shared the same affectation for this great city as London was one of their favourite places to visit. Their employer was CEO of UK pharmaceutical company Thur-Pharm and Labour Party Politician Sir. Jeremy Thursby O.B.E., who was putting them all up in first class digs here at The Dorchester Hotel. UNEEDA Demolition was contracted to deliver crates of antibiotics to Puerto Rico via a contracted C130 cargo plane the next morning. It was a little odd for them to do humanitarian work like this, nevertheless, all four of them were Mercs and they went wherever there was work or action. Samuel found himself pulled into vivid insistent memory of his fall down that elevator shaft into the scuttling, biting mass of slimy insect life. Remembering latching jaws painfully burrowing into the meat of his wrist while others ran up to his eyes, inside his ears, up his nostrils.. Samuel shivered at the memory from eighteen hours ago. Fucking horrible nightmare. I shouldn't have pushed Malcolm; pursued him. Serves me right, I guess. I wonder how Malcolm felt after his first experience with falling into that horrible fucking nightmare mess. How many times has he been there? And now.. now he's embraced so much. Now he's the master there. A worthy opponent indeed.
Samuel Rosenthal settled on his face reflected on the glass, Malcolm's a lot like me. Upturning the glass to take the last sip of the smoky alcohol, an unclouded section of the wintery night sky afforded him a view of the faraway stars. Samuel felt that old longing.. pressure felt on his suit's right shoulder had him regrettably shake his head to deny the sensation. Samuel pressed his right cheek onto where the tingling sensation was and rubbed for a moment until the tingling faded. I can't, he told it and himself then looked down. I gotta keep moving.
Samuel turned away to place his empty glass by the almost full Macallan bottle on the apartment's smooth solid mahogany and ash wood sideboard. Distracted somewhat as he refilled his glass, Samuel felt Kenneth's engrossed concern with an email on his cellphone screen.
"Ex-wife again?" Samuel asked while concentrating on resealing the bottle cap.
"Just an FYI update, boss. See, funny thing about kids is they miss their dad if he's stuck out here." Kenneth replied with sarcasm.
"Ah, it's only for eighteen months, tops."
"Yeah well, tell that to Craig's nightmares."
"Ken, I really don't need this guilt trip right now." Samuel said and reached over to his burgundy Globe Trotter vanity case. Opening it to find his sealed plastic bag filled with party favours. Samuel unsealed the bag to pick out a crack pipe and a small rock. The brown grey teensy rock dropped inside the pipe's hollow globe. Holding the pipe stem between his lips, Samuel cooked up the rock to a smoke with his lighter. Inhaling the smoke..all worries joyously faded away.
Kenneth, Tiffany and Stuart watched disapprovingly as Samuel turned around in another place high and uncaring about anything. "Yesterday it was DMT. Now you're tripping balls on crack. At this rate, when they bury you, your coffin's gonna have a child-proof lid." Kenneth dryly quipped.
Feeling wired, Samuel raised his hands as he mockingly imitated someone: "Ya shoulda heard old Escobar's laugh when I told him the slogan Barb came up with: Just Say No." He said and they laughed. Samuel giggled to himself and dropped the discoloured glass pipe back in the bag.