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Addictarium by Nicole D'Settēmi5/7/2023 ![]() ![]() We both squinted to see further, but we didn't really know what we were seeing. They were all people who lived in our Therapeutic Community a long-term addiction-recovery program, named Safe Haven Village, or The Village as I liked to call it, because Greenwich had nothing on this place, it was a complete circus, a regular freak show by all definitions of the word. "I think I see her!" she shouted, referring to our mutual acquaintance August Delgado, who as always, was surrounded by a small cluster of people, all of them off into the distance. ![]() Tear drops were streaming down my face from my watery eyes, with the sun luminous and bright, but the weather still quite cold, at least for spring. We continued to run, as we laughed even harder. Strong, and intense, scorching the back of my throat, just the way I needed something to be. Black-and-Mild’s, the box said, and they were delicious. I followed, out of breath, trying to inhale the last of a cheap, fat menthol cigar. She laughed loudly, nearly tumbling over, her voice ringing through the air, despite the howl of the heavy winds. ![]() Karen, who was drenched in a thick, mauve turtle neck, and a pair of furry, suede boots, ran awkwardly about two feet ahead of me, her left leg shorter than the right making her look funny. We were scurrying down the wooden planks along the boardwalk, five minutes from our community. "Come on, Danielle!" Karen shouted over the raging winds, which were both loud and aggressive, due to April's unpredictable weather. ![]()
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