left, right, left, right.
inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale.
the time escaped him. all he knew was that it was late in the evening, entering that time of night where one blurred into the other. he couldn't tell what was going on anymore; a slight alcoholic buzz clouded his thoughts and made him more incoherent than his sober self would've wanted. hours ago, he swore it would only be one drink, and then he would leave the bar. it seemed as though it was six drinks later, all strong and potent. the bar closed down. he searched his mind for some logical sign, some reasonably thought that could tell him the fucking time and help him feel not so lost. two in the morning was when the bars closed, right? that sounded correct. so he estimated the time at two in the morning, and here he was, attempting to find his way back home.
of course he could attempt hailing a cab. driving was out of the question; then again, he didn't have a vehicle of his own. public transportation was shut down for the night, as far as he could remember. usually the buses stopped running around midnight in this part of town. so his only options were hailing a cab or walking his drunk ass home for the night. cab .. well, a chance that the cab didn't take credit existed. this side of town, more of those sort of cabs existed than uptown, where he lived. his cash had all been spent on those expensive and delicious alcoholic beverages. shit. seemed like the only thing he could now was walk his ass home and pray that he lived to see the sun in the morn.
his fingers wrestled in his pocket, and he dug out a pack of cigarettes. two were still sitting inside. he'd have to buy a new pack tomorrow. long fingers tugged out his second-to-last cig, and they stuck it between his lips. the pack was fisted back into his pocket with one hand while the other went searching for his lighter. fuck, where did it go? he couldn't seem to find it. each pocket of his trousers ended up being empty. shit shit shit. but wait - he was wearing a jacket. so his hands immediately went there, searching inside as the nicotine craving suddenly began to rise. he had to have his lighter somewhere, anywhere. he couldn't live without a fag, he just couldn't. at last, the sleek blue lighter was grasped gently between his fingers and palm. he pulled it out from the left jacket pocket and clicked it. a flame. it was beautiful, gorgeous, and so bright. he lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. oh, how that feeling of relief filled his being. he felt more at ease. the lighter was still lit, and his fingers had yet to place it back in his pocket. if there was a way to keep the flame going, he'd do anything.
he stopped walking. his eyes, dull and dark, glanced to the building at his right. it was an old rundown building, probably been sitting there since the 1950s. the stoop was cracked. shutters on the windows were hanging by weak hinges. it was different than many of the buildings in the area. most were newer, made of brick or stone, and had an industrial feel to them. as if they were government projects, all about uniformity. this one was unique. he liked it. he liked it a lot. he had no idea how long he stood there, gazing upon the beautiful building. it really was beautiful. he wanted to be the only one to see it now. the last one to see it. no one else appreciated this building. no one. it had been left standing there for decades, poorly being taken care of by the city. didn't they realize that this was one of the last buildings like this in the area?! no. no, all they cared about were the industrial buildings surrounding the area. that's all they ever poured their money into, but they couldn't even keep something as beautiful as this alive.
he clicked his lighter down, jamming it far into the plastic. he threw it at the building, letting it land on the wooden porch. he stood there, watching. slowly, the porch burned, flames climbing higher and higher onto the wooden columns.
he took a long drag from his cigarette, appreciating the last beautiful thing around.
he walked away.
inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale.
the time escaped him. all he knew was that it was late in the evening, entering that time of night where one blurred into the other. he couldn't tell what was going on anymore; a slight alcoholic buzz clouded his thoughts and made him more incoherent than his sober self would've wanted. hours ago, he swore it would only be one drink, and then he would leave the bar. it seemed as though it was six drinks later, all strong and potent. the bar closed down. he searched his mind for some logical sign, some reasonably thought that could tell him the fucking time and help him feel not so lost. two in the morning was when the bars closed, right? that sounded correct. so he estimated the time at two in the morning, and here he was, attempting to find his way back home.
of course he could attempt hailing a cab. driving was out of the question; then again, he didn't have a vehicle of his own. public transportation was shut down for the night, as far as he could remember. usually the buses stopped running around midnight in this part of town. so his only options were hailing a cab or walking his drunk ass home for the night. cab .. well, a chance that the cab didn't take credit existed. this side of town, more of those sort of cabs existed than uptown, where he lived. his cash had all been spent on those expensive and delicious alcoholic beverages. shit. seemed like the only thing he could now was walk his ass home and pray that he lived to see the sun in the morn.
his fingers wrestled in his pocket, and he dug out a pack of cigarettes. two were still sitting inside. he'd have to buy a new pack tomorrow. long fingers tugged out his second-to-last cig, and they stuck it between his lips. the pack was fisted back into his pocket with one hand while the other went searching for his lighter. fuck, where did it go? he couldn't seem to find it. each pocket of his trousers ended up being empty. shit shit shit. but wait - he was wearing a jacket. so his hands immediately went there, searching inside as the nicotine craving suddenly began to rise. he had to have his lighter somewhere, anywhere. he couldn't live without a fag, he just couldn't. at last, the sleek blue lighter was grasped gently between his fingers and palm. he pulled it out from the left jacket pocket and clicked it. a flame. it was beautiful, gorgeous, and so bright. he lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. oh, how that feeling of relief filled his being. he felt more at ease. the lighter was still lit, and his fingers had yet to place it back in his pocket. if there was a way to keep the flame going, he'd do anything.
he stopped walking. his eyes, dull and dark, glanced to the building at his right. it was an old rundown building, probably been sitting there since the 1950s. the stoop was cracked. shutters on the windows were hanging by weak hinges. it was different than many of the buildings in the area. most were newer, made of brick or stone, and had an industrial feel to them. as if they were government projects, all about uniformity. this one was unique. he liked it. he liked it a lot. he had no idea how long he stood there, gazing upon the beautiful building. it really was beautiful. he wanted to be the only one to see it now. the last one to see it. no one else appreciated this building. no one. it had been left standing there for decades, poorly being taken care of by the city. didn't they realize that this was one of the last buildings like this in the area?! no. no, all they cared about were the industrial buildings surrounding the area. that's all they ever poured their money into, but they couldn't even keep something as beautiful as this alive.
he clicked his lighter down, jamming it far into the plastic. he threw it at the building, letting it land on the wooden porch. he stood there, watching. slowly, the porch burned, flames climbing higher and higher onto the wooden columns.
he took a long drag from his cigarette, appreciating the last beautiful thing around.
he walked away.
