Spontaneous Writing: 6 hrs Sleep, No Food
eddie flung the empty bottle of whisky against the wall in front of him, watching it shatter into hundreds of pieces of gleaming pain and sparkles. walking along the rest of the alley, after having contemplated lying across the sparklies, he noticed the man, legs drawn up to his chest, back between a dumpster and the brick wall.
gangly though the man was, eddie felt a surprising amount of fear and distrust towards the man that he couldnt explain. the whisky could explain why he felt so funny at the sight of the man. alcohol did funny things to the way he processed things. in other words, it functions perfectly. the ratty clothes that the man was in hung about him loosely, as if they were bought for another man and he had happened upon them. almost as if his new lifestyle changed the man he was, as if he hadnt intended to turn into this, just see what happened. the rest followed that.
he turned away from the man, the image of someone decaying before his very eyes causing him to turn and leave, revolted. turning back to look over his shoulder, he noticed that the space occupying the man was now suddenly empty...
eddie walked over and inspected the area. a pile of dust, barely a scattering of debris across the wet, glistening concrete between buildings, the condensation from the hot day having built up and cooled down. eddie was tired...
he sat for a few minutes and had the images of death and lives lived flash across his closed eyes. the crack of lightning threatened his awakening. the would wet his legs. he drew them up to his chest, keeping them dry. he would just rest here for a while, until the storm passed.
somewhere down the cavernous echoes of the alley, the sound of a smashed bottle hit, the crash and the tinkling of the glass as it hit the pavement. the sound made him feel safe, secure, in his hole. made him pull his legs tighter up to his chest. the warmth they held kept him warm in his tshirt. he heard the sound of a man walking up the alley. if only he could fade away...
z out
gangly though the man was, eddie felt a surprising amount of fear and distrust towards the man that he couldnt explain. the whisky could explain why he felt so funny at the sight of the man. alcohol did funny things to the way he processed things. in other words, it functions perfectly. the ratty clothes that the man was in hung about him loosely, as if they were bought for another man and he had happened upon them. almost as if his new lifestyle changed the man he was, as if he hadnt intended to turn into this, just see what happened. the rest followed that.
he turned away from the man, the image of someone decaying before his very eyes causing him to turn and leave, revolted. turning back to look over his shoulder, he noticed that the space occupying the man was now suddenly empty...
eddie walked over and inspected the area. a pile of dust, barely a scattering of debris across the wet, glistening concrete between buildings, the condensation from the hot day having built up and cooled down. eddie was tired...
he sat for a few minutes and had the images of death and lives lived flash across his closed eyes. the crack of lightning threatened his awakening. the would wet his legs. he drew them up to his chest, keeping them dry. he would just rest here for a while, until the storm passed.
somewhere down the cavernous echoes of the alley, the sound of a smashed bottle hit, the crash and the tinkling of the glass as it hit the pavement. the sound made him feel safe, secure, in his hole. made him pull his legs tighter up to his chest. the warmth they held kept him warm in his tshirt. he heard the sound of a man walking up the alley. if only he could fade away...
z out
posted by OOKKI-SAN! at 3:51 PM
1 Comments:
not really serious writing...
i deleted it all remember? i thought i told you...
z out
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