This is a stubborn idea from a male perspective that didn't want to leave me alone.
Friday night rolled over with a yawn nudging me from my deep slumber. Dizzy and disoriented, all i could do was lie on the bed in a paralyzed confusion.
The whining fireworks in their ascent up the aisle to the sky only to crush into it in a blooming kiss was the first reminder of the time, day, and year I was in. The scattered beer cans and cheap vodka bottles ignited a fierce throbbing in my head and nausea in my stomach, definitely not my most conscious nights. The stale smell of sex in the air, the damp sheets underneath me, the cold pillow beside me over the long-since-deserted mattress, and my missing wallet all reminded me of the miserable state I've come to inhibit.
The fireworks continued their festivities while I gazed at them from the open window with a stained sheet as my sole armor. A sigh broke free out of my disapproving lips. It sounded like it escaped from within the locked depths of my heart and I wondered for a brief moment if I possessed such a mythical level of soul and even conjured a theory about it being just a satisfying belch.
But it wasn't a belch, and it wasn't satisfying.
Being in no mood to recite the obligatory 'happy new year' especially in the presence of an empty room, I let my mouth run with the first thing my mind concerned itself with:
"oh man, and there were 20$ in that wallet".
YOU ARE READING
Bits and pieces
Short StorySome days are heavier than others and the only way out of their unhealthy loop is to write what my mind dictates on me. the resulting pieces are sometimes a spark of imagination, sometimes scattered brain matter, and sometimes cow manure. So I'll hu...
