I can’t sleep.
I lay on an air mattress, staring at the television. A news reporter talks about tracking Santa Claus.
I flip over, peeking across my mom’s living room. Aunt Scarlett lies asleep on the couch opposite me.
I tip-toe into the hallway bathroom, producing a joint.
I hold the smoke in extra long, wondering where I’m gonna release it.
I flip on the fan. A loud, screeching sound shoots out of the vent, forcing it back off.
My eyes shoot toward the door.
“Lawrence?” My aunt’s voice creeps under the door.
Roger McDaniel is a writer living in Florida.