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2005-09-19 - 11:09 a.m.

He was an unmarried man in his twenties who lived in a pink room within his parent�s house. Even the ceiling was pink. It is as if those five walls are burned into his head. Guess what else?
The carpet was pink.
He could see it through his closed eyes.
It looked pink.
One thing going for Dewey was that his parents had a standard of living they needed jobs to maintain. Those conflicts saw them away from their home for the whole morning and afternoon on this day.
All in one motion he opened his eyes, rolled over and crawled onto the floor. He crawled until passing the threshold of the hallway where he finally stood. Even the outside of the door was painted pink.
There was just no escaping the pink. Guess how many doors down it was at its place at the end of the hall in the otherwise nice, wood-floored hall?
Except for the pink door at the end of it.
Things were looking good for him on this day with his back to the pink room until he needed to dress himself after the grooming and defiling of himself. One other thing he usually worked in was not making his bed. His father found it maddening that Dewey could not jus throw the cover back over the bed. In his opinion the damn vagabond didn�t pay for either of them he could at least make it look presentable.
When he returned to the pink room to dress he stopped before leaving. He looked around. He threw the pink quilt over the bed. Dewey felt like he had accomplished something. He smoked some of his good stuff in the backyard that morning. He would get Ed high with his product. Things were rough after the movie fiasco and he went through four twenty sacks already.
Maybe he could not smoke today. He could just tell Ed that he was out. He could pass on the resin hits. He would be sober all day.
It all seemed like a lot of work.
You wouldn�t believe how many twenty sacks were left.
That five grams is a bitch.
Eighty bucks would make a hundred-forty. Fifteen bucks profit and a lot of shit he won�t remember. He realized he was assuming a lot and just hoped this twenty sack would last through the other four�s sales. He thought about other stuff while eating the sweet cereal. It was a knock-off of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Dewey used to like the term knock-off until he saw the movie Knock-off.
It ruined the word (phrase?) for him.
He walked away from the empty bowl on the table after drinking every last drop of sweet milk. He walked out the front door...

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