Jukebox Ero

Hours later, Ero skirted puddles as he trudged through the filth-laden city rain. He had no flashlight or umbrella, so, by the flickering light of a street-lamp, he re-read the name and address off the crumpled paper. The wet ink began to bleed onto Ero’s hands, so he stashed it back in the pocket of his rain-soaked jeans.

Lot of good that would do him. By the time Ero found the place, an abandoned and dilapidated diner, the writing was incomprehensible. But this had to be the place. It was all dark, except for the faint neon glow of a jukebox. Ero tried the door, it was open, just like it was supposed to be.

Ero carefully climbed into the jukebox and took out the fix Big Luv had “travel packed” for him.

If he was going to have to wait in this god damn jukebox for a few hours, he may as well at least make it enjoyable.

Ero tied off his arm, and prepped the needle, smiling as he anticipated his rush. He plunged the needle into his arm, and leaned back, his wet clothes against the warm wires of the jukebox.

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