“A Street Guide to Providence” – a story at The New England Review
Nikki doesn’t know how much longer she can wait around for this Buckley, Nikki not knowing if that’s his first name or last, just Buckley, supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago, Nikki perched on a brick wall off Wickenden waiting. Frank would kill her if he knew—just a little weed and he’d go bullshit on her—but that’s the way with Frank since he landed in the hospital last month after a beating outside Babe’s and quit everything cold turkey the next day. Now he wants her to quit everything too. She thought he was weak when he was drinking, Frank, but it’s when he stopped that the weakness really took hold. Or, no, not weakness. More like deadness.