Sometimes death comes for us, and sometimes he doesn't mean to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
None of the photos are mine, and belong to their respectful owners.
This is a work of fiction. I do n...
𒊹︎ You kicked down the door to your small New York apartment, not caring that it was two am in the morning.
Now, you may be wondering why you were getting home at such a time, and the only answer I can give is work. Your job required a lot of things from you, one being: late hour availability, and the second: the fact you really didn't give a shit about anything. A great job description, I know.
Anyway, as I was saying, you kicked down your door and entered your apartment, throwing your bag into the entryway. You dragged your sleep deprived body to your bathroom, and began the shower.
The slight sting from the hot water left a satisfying feeling on your skin, making you sad you couldn't just live in the small tile lined corner that occupied the room. Using all your will power, you finally got out after a good half-hour, and went straight to bed.
You pulled back the squishy comforter and laid down on the soft mattress, instantly feeling relaxed.
The thin curtains by your bedroom window fluttered from the now cool night air, a beautiful painting like scene of the city presenting itself through the small rectangular hole. You sighed as you felt your eyelids get heavy with exhaustion, your mind enjoying the tranquility that the night brought and that the day envied. When your eyes finally closed all the way, you let sleep take over and you blissfully sank deeper into your mattress.
✧.*ೃ༄
White clouds rolled with the blue hues of the setting sky, casting a warmth over the wheat field.
