Crystal was hunched over, coughing and trying to catch her breath just a few inches inside the safety of the Shoppin's glass doors.<br/><br/><em>"What the fuck happened to you? You look like you already died... 3 months ago!" </em><br/><br/>"Oh go fuck yourself!  Judging from your shoe size I'm gonna assume you're trying to over-compensate for<em>something</em>with that gun!  FUCKER!"  She said boldly to the miniature man wearing a red crushed velvet suit with a zebra striped collar holding a gun.  Crystal looked down at him and glared.  She was used to insults, they didn't really bother her anymore.  "I don't need this shit right now."  She muttered to herself and walked over to a large magazine rack that lined the middle of the windows.<br/><br/>She slid her back down the rack, ruffling the pages of Jet, Auto Trader, Rolling Stone, and Playboy among others, and sat on the floor.  Her skeletal hand reached into the purse she had stolen from the dead woman and found one of her rocks, a lighter and the glass pipe.<br/><br/><strong>*Click*  *Flame*  *Burn*  *Suck*  *Inhale*  </strong><br/><br/>The glass burned her top lip a little but Crystal didn't mind another sore compared to the ecstasy she was feeling at the moment.  Her eyes glazed over as she blew out a long stream of smoke into the store.  Her body felt content and warm.  And she relaxed her limbs sitting on a concrete floor as if she were laying in a plush pillow-top, king sized bed.  There was some commotion coming from other folks in the store but in those few seconds she didn't give a<em> fffffuuuuuuccckkkkk</em>.<br/><br/><br/>