Dope Stories

The weak light from a leaden sky revealed a scattering of forlorn leaves clinging to the dark, wet limbs of trees bordering a deserted playground and half-empty parking lot. Cold, misty rain and swirling winds hastened the inevitable outcome of this doomed struggle.  A typical winter's day in New York, thought, Gwen Kaplan, as she took in the scene from inside her snug bedroom. To her, it seemed beautiful. The nasty weath...

The name ‘Big House’ had to do with the people who lived there allowing almost anyone to use it as a temporary shelter. Of course, preference was given to “heads” with dope or booze and to all females. The two-lane asphalt highway crawled with summer congestion. Once an especially slow, snake-like section skirting a picturesque bayou had been navigated, however, the white, travel-worn, 1959 Ford Galaxie 500 hit a straight...