“You said this is opium?” Retrieving the pipe from Linda, the guy took a luxurious hit and said through a bush of smoke, “Actually it’s heroin. Actually it’s better than heroin. It’s death. But some people get all faggy when they hear the H-word. It’s all opiates.” Her hands and cheeks warmed, matched by a queasy remorse that she was accustomed to pushing through. The thing she was indignant about was sapping her indignation.
