See That Guy All Dressed In Red?
It's a clear night. A night like this, feels like it should be dark and stormy. Somewhere off in the distance, a couple of cats are busy fucking. The sounds at least fit my mood: violent, primal and unnervingly high-pitched. I've been staking this place out for weeks, and so far, all I've found is traces of things that I should have seen, but haven't - cheap cigarettes, smoked down to the butts, bullet casings of various calibers, used condoms, broken bottles. All the signs of a vice-den are here, but I never see anyone. It's like I'm watching a building full of sin with no sinners, chasing smoke without any sign of fire.
I'm tempted to light up myself, but I've been trying for weeks to kick the habit. The cats have finished by this point, their sounds replaced with hobos digging through the garbage. I could make some sort of witty comparison, there, but I'm not sure I like the implications. I get the feeling this building is laughing at me, which probably isn't the best indicator of a sound state of mind. Score one more for the hobo metaphor, I guess.
EDIT: This is a fragment of fiction that kinda popped into my head. C&C, as ever, welcome.
I'm tempted to light up myself, but I've been trying for weeks to kick the habit. The cats have finished by this point, their sounds replaced with hobos digging through the garbage. I could make some sort of witty comparison, there, but I'm not sure I like the implications. I get the feeling this building is laughing at me, which probably isn't the best indicator of a sound state of mind. Score one more for the hobo metaphor, I guess.
EDIT: This is a fragment of fiction that kinda popped into my head. C&C, as ever, welcome.