The junkie's heart.

On the first floor of a building lives the junkie.

On the second floor of the building lives his mother.

He is a lucky junkie, for sure, compared to others who shiver on the streets in cold winters, who have no home to run to and no mothers to feed them. The two are often the talk of the neighbourhood, especially when the junkie demands his daily money in order to go find his daily dose. Strange things happen when the mother refuses to give him what he wants.

Like this.

"I am gonna tear you apart" writes the junkie on one of the building walls.

I doubt one day he'll learn to love her again. I wonder who is going to die first.