

The drawing roomA dozen rheumy eyes track my descent into the armchair. I know theyre desperate for attention but I carefully ignore them: Ive heard their bitter and banal remarks before. Instead, I look at the man asleep in the next chair. He moves very gently under a coarse blanket. I study his speckled pate, his delicate lips slightly apart, the purple veins twitching in his eyelids.The drawing room
Dad will come down momently. Hes still sharp, but I wonder what this place is doing to him. I wish Id done well enough in life to provide for him properly. Before, when Id visit him in his big, lonely house, hed quote Keats at


At a hostel in CadizMy sheets were damp with sweat. Maybe the heat had woken me. I didn't know what time it was. My eyes attuned. I saw the profile of a man's back and legs in the opposite bunk. Then the grey shine of moonlight on his eyes.At a hostel in Cadiz
He was looking at me.
"Do you know something?" he said.
I knew a lot of things.
"What?" I said.
"The Devil is real," he said.
I exhaled. I waited to fall asleep again.
"You only see when you lose someone," he said. "You see his vast body in the sky. His wings cast a shadow over the earth. The people look so small in the shadow. But you

--
Founder of =Inked-Page | Staff for *100ThemesChallenge, *ProsePlease | Lit Critic at *devCRIT
--
If you are reading this I should be working.
Brother~craigthebrit
--
Founder of =Inked-Page | Staff for *100ThemesChallenge, *ProsePlease | Lit Critic at *devCRIT
grrr!!
stupid things...
--
If you are reading this I should be working.
Brother~craigthebrit
HAD to. HAD. You hear me?! lol
--
If you are reading this I should be working.
Brother~craigthebrit
--
TaRo 粋 Stylish
Previous Page12345...Next Page