Tear Stained
Some friends called me up the other day. They wanted me to visit so I said fine. Within the evening, the back was packed, planes boarded and transferred and I found myself outside in a chill breeze watching a steel gray sky slide into a concrete gray city. They had always been a cute couple. It was an odd relationship - mine to them. They never let me wander too far into myself very long before I got a phone call to chitter about, well, whatever. I never knew why they considered me a friend but they were a saving grace. The night clubs were hit in a timid way merely because said predator was out if it's element. That's fine. These people didn't need an artists' red paint thrown about the guest room. I stayed for a as-warm-as-can-be week and never saw the sun break the solid color of horizon and civilization. It truly left me feeling hollow. They only made me resent it in their beautiful bliss. I wondered what they would think if I told them that their strangely appealing friend was a hopeless monster. The thought woke me from sleep, tear stained.