Fiction - a Variation of Carlito's Way

He swaggers in the building, needing his medication. He reeks of alcohol....vodka perhaps. Was it really this morning that he was delivered the bad news. Could have been yesterday or days ago. But he is in his own time zone now. The specialist said he has a year to live. Must have hit him like a bullet. Like the bullet he would self administer if he became desperate.

"A year to live. Fuck that shit! Fuck the world"

Eighty plus days in the "pen", all that he wants is to gather enough money to head to Florida. To live it up but the party is permanently over. Carlito has done some bad things - bad enough that others would want him dead. His death would be sweet revenge for those whose lives were destroyed by him directly and indirectly.

Today, he is on the prowl for some "salvation"....something to hold on to. He must be afraid to die but why didn't he take care of himself. Why does he still continue to drink and use? The smoking ain't helping either. But he likes her. "You're cool. I can talk to you"

Doesn't he know how f*cked up this is if he continues on this path?

"Can you make $900 or $1,200 in a day?" With that, she knows how difficult it is to walk away from that lifestyle.

Although he might have shot another human being, she still understands his need to cry and to vent. It isn't easy living with HIV. His past doesn't matter - he is still terrified of the future and what it will bring to him.