Diary of a Drug Fiend

The Gatto Fritto 125 lost child, that Feccles would turn up and get us out of the mess. Unfortunately for either, I had been very capably disarmed, and there was no sign of Feccles. We were marched to the police station and thrown into separate rooms. ‘I cannot hope to depict the boiling rage which kept me awake all night. I resented ill-temperedly the attempts of the other men to be sympathetic. I think they recognised instinctively that I had got into trouble through no fault of my own, and were anxious to show kindness in their own rough way to the stranger. - The worst of the whole business was that they had searched us and removed our stand-by, the dear little gold-topped bottle! I might have got myself into a mood to laugh the whole thing off, as had so often happened before; and I realised for the first time the dreadful sinking of heart that comes from privation. It was only a hint of the horror so far. I had enough of the stuff in me to carry me through for a bit. But, even as things were, it was bad enough. I had a feeling of utter helplessness. I began to repent having repulsed the advances of my fellow prisoners. I approached them and explained that I was a “ Stsgnor Inglese”’ with “ molto danaro” ; and if any one could oblige me with a sniff of cocaine, as I explained by gesture, I should be practically grateful. I was understood immediately. They laughed sympathetically with perfect comprehension of the case. But as it happened, nobody had managed to smuggle anything in.. There was nothing for it but to wait for the morning. I lay down on a bench, and found myself the prey of increasingly acute irritation. The hours passed like the procession of Banquo’s heirs before the eyes of Macbeth; and a voice in me kept saying, ‘‘ Macbeth hath murdered sleep, Macbeth shall sleep no more!” I had an appallingly disquieting sensation of being