Snake (Mary Woronov Collection Book 2) by Mary Woronov

Author:Mary Woronov [Woronov, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Road Trip, Romance, 60's Drug Culture
ISBN: 9780989605823
Publisher: Montaldo Publishing
Published: 2014-07-26T05:00:00+00:00

Outside the street was hot like a furnace. Sandra decided to walk to the next casino and the next, not to gamble, just to spy on the Borg hive activity. She wondered what an archaeologist would think, when they unearthed a pyramid around the corner from the statue of Liberty, and down the block from the MGM Sphinx and the New York skyline, all stuffed into one goddamn hell hole. She didn’t like watching these people, and they didn’t like her. The Borg could tell she didn’t belong. It was only a matter of time before they turned on her. All of them were carrying deadly insect jelly under their clothes . . . one smear and . . . Paranoia. It was simple once she put her finger on it. She was too high, she shouldn’t have taken that coke, and she had to go back to the room, whether she liked it or not.

Pulling down the hotel sheets she smiled. So I’m a chicken, and I would rather curl up in a cocoon than walk around Las Vegas, is that so bad? Behind her eyelids she ran back through the wild reeds that tangled along the river which moved like a silver snake in the long black grass. She ran through them, hiding in the meadow behind the farm, where her trees stood, their leaves tossing and roaring like an ocean. Out of night’s vaulted ceiling, which formed a dome large enough to suspend all the spinning planets and the stars, the wind rushed to greet her, and for a second she was happy, but only for a second.

“Sandra.” The stars blinked on and off in an ugly sideshow of bad timing and neon color.

“Sandra.” He was sitting on the bed beside her. She had heard him come in, and she heard fear and frustration slip in with him. Maybe all three of them would go away.

“Sandra, wake up.”

“What?”

“Here, this is for you.” He pulled out a bracelet of ivory and gold. It looked like a shackle made of someone else’s leg bone. “I won a lot of money, a couple of grand, and I bought this for you. But I went back to the tables and lost. I lost everything. This bracelet is all that’s left.” His head was buried in his hands so she couldn’t tell if he was going to say more. When she didn’t answer, he dove under the bed for the flight bag.

“Is that why you came back? To get high?” she said.

“No, you don’t understand,” he said, inhaling a foot-long line. “We have no more money.”

“I have a credit card.”

“I’m not spending your money. Credit cards can be traced.” She watched him pace from wall to wall. The room seemed to shrink.

“We have to have money,” she said blankly.

“I’m going to get the money back.”

“You’re going to gamble more money on top of what you lost?” She heard the nagging tone of her voice, and watched his back stiffen.

“You don’t understand. Go back to sleep.

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