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SSC19- Alcoholic
Looking up to the clock, I can make out it's 3 or 4 or something, not that it matters. I haven't had a wink of sleep in the last 3 years. My bed has become redundant, because of this. When I lay on it I remain awake, so what's the point? May aswell lay on my sofa and watch the flickering images on the TV.
Sometimes they're close to blinding me with their white brilliance, illuminating the rest of my dark room, but not my soul or my morale. Infact, quite the opposite. The microsecond that the room is illuminated, the prevelance of the rising damp is revealed as day by day it edges its way up the wall covered in peeling paint. The otherwise bare white walls infront of me only provide a blank backdrop for the view that I'm accustomed to every day. The odd rat or cockroach is in plain sight during an occasional flash from the black box, but they don't stay in here long, so why should I bother them if they don't bother me? An overflowing litter bin to my right and a long since dead plant off the end of the couch frame the television which provides me with my link to the outside world. The table behind me is heaped with stacks of bills that tower and lurch over me.
Depressing, eh? I would've thought that if I were you, but as it is I'm resigned to the fact that this place is a tip and I can't be bothered to change it.
Haven't been paid in months, my mates all seem to have become disconnected from me and I've replaced them with friends of my own. Stella, for example beckons me, even now. She's one of my nearest and dearest. She holds a place in my heart and like a cheap prostitute, I keep coming back for more. Some say they feel intoxicated by their loved one, but they don't know what they're on about until they've had a week with mine. I've spent three years with her now and She's always been there for me. She's cold to the touch, but smooth to the lips and touches me deep inside. Whenever I have a problem, Stella always has the answer. She doesn't talk that much at first, but after I've had a bit of her She speaks volumes to me. My blood flows like a river and my mind is at ease when I'm with her.
Stella is the closest person in my life right now and despite my financial woes and other plights, she stays with me through thick and thin. I don't think I could ever leave her.
Looking up to the clock, I can make out it's 3 or 4 or something, not that it matters. I haven't had a wink of sleep in the last 3 years. My bed has become redundant, because of this. When I lay on it I remain awake, so what's the point? May aswell lay on my sofa and watch the flickering images on the TV.
Sometimes they're close to blinding me with their white brilliance, illuminating the rest of my dark room, but not my soul or my morale. Infact, quite the opposite. The microsecond that the room is illuminated, the prevelance of the rising damp is revealed as day by day it edges its way up the wall covered in peeling paint. The otherwise bare white walls infront of me only provide a blank backdrop for the view that I'm accustomed to every day. The odd rat or cockroach is in plain sight during an occasional flash from the black box, but they don't stay in here long, so why should I bother them if they don't bother me? An overflowing litter bin to my right and a long since dead plant off the end of the couch frame the television which provides me with my link to the outside world. The table behind me is heaped with stacks of bills that tower and lurch over me.
Depressing, eh? I would've thought that if I were you, but as it is I'm resigned to the fact that this place is a tip and I can't be bothered to change it.
Haven't been paid in months, my mates all seem to have become disconnected from me and I've replaced them with friends of my own. Stella, for example beckons me, even now. She's one of my nearest and dearest. She holds a place in my heart and like a cheap prostitute, I keep coming back for more. Some say they feel intoxicated by their loved one, but they don't know what they're on about until they've had a week with mine. I've spent three years with her now and She's always been there for me. She's cold to the touch, but smooth to the lips and touches me deep inside. Whenever I have a problem, Stella always has the answer. She doesn't talk that much at first, but after I've had a bit of her She speaks volumes to me. My blood flows like a river and my mind is at ease when I'm with her.
Stella is the closest person in my life right now and despite my financial woes and other plights, she stays with me through thick and thin. I don't think I could ever leave her.
Effective piece, strong description of the place - I couldn't believe that an alcoholic couldn't sleep though - maybe if you tackled this by saying that passing out due to excess drink and sleep are quite different. The title gives it away too, could have been more subtle without revealing the alcohol link right away.
crossbob wrote:
> Is this my english Teacher Mr wilson because he has a Cat called
> Stella!
Young talents!
> Is this my english Teacher Mr wilson because he has a Cat called
> Stella!
Young talents!
Good funny read
Cheers guys.
This was just a late night rambling, so I'm glad you like it.
It originally was way more subtle, but I would doubt that someone could've got the link, so I put in Stella and awkward phrases.
I'll try not to under-estimate you all next time!
:D
This was just a late night rambling, so I'm glad you like it.
It originally was way more subtle, but I would doubt that someone could've got the link, so I put in Stella and awkward phrases.
I'll try not to under-estimate you all next time!
:D
Oh yeah I forgot to say good story but theres nothing about dawn in it!
Is this my english Teacher Mr wilson because he has a Cat called Stella!
A good read, that. Nice personification too, maybe, as Ashman said, it needed to be more subtle though.
I read this yesterday. Skimmed through it again today.
I really like it, it was well composed and nicely written. I would have probably made it a bit more subtle if I was writing it, like I did when I wrote something similar only using drugs as the topic.
Anyway, nice.
I really like it, it was well composed and nicely written. I would have probably made it a bit more subtle if I was writing it, like I did when I wrote something similar only using drugs as the topic.
Anyway, nice.
SSC19- Alcoholic
Looking up to the clock, I can make out it's 3 or 4 or something, not that it matters. I haven't had a wink of sleep in the last 3 years. My bed has become redundant, because of this. When I lay on it I remain awake, so what's the point? May aswell lay on my sofa and watch the flickering images on the TV.
Sometimes they're close to blinding me with their white brilliance, illuminating the rest of my dark room, but not my soul or my morale. Infact, quite the opposite. The microsecond that the room is illuminated, the prevelance of the rising damp is revealed as day by day it edges its way up the wall covered in peeling paint. The otherwise bare white walls infront of me only provide a blank backdrop for the view that I'm accustomed to every day. The odd rat or cockroach is in plain sight during an occasional flash from the black box, but they don't stay in here long, so why should I bother them if they don't bother me? An overflowing litter bin to my right and a long since dead plant off the end of the couch frame the television which provides me with my link to the outside world. The table behind me is heaped with stacks of bills that tower and lurch over me.
Depressing, eh? I would've thought that if I were you, but as it is I'm resigned to the fact that this place is a tip and I can't be bothered to change it.
Haven't been paid in months, my mates all seem to have become disconnected from me and I've replaced them with friends of my own. Stella, for example beckons me, even now. She's one of my nearest and dearest. She holds a place in my heart and like a cheap prostitute, I keep coming back for more. Some say they feel intoxicated by their loved one, but they don't know what they're on about until they've had a week with mine. I've spent three years with her now and She's always been there for me. She's cold to the touch, but smooth to the lips and touches me deep inside. Whenever I have a problem, Stella always has the answer. She doesn't talk that much at first, but after I've had a bit of her She speaks volumes to me. My blood flows like a river and my mind is at ease when I'm with her.
Stella is the closest person in my life right now and despite my financial woes and other plights, she stays with me through thick and thin. I don't think I could ever leave her.
Looking up to the clock, I can make out it's 3 or 4 or something, not that it matters. I haven't had a wink of sleep in the last 3 years. My bed has become redundant, because of this. When I lay on it I remain awake, so what's the point? May aswell lay on my sofa and watch the flickering images on the TV.
Sometimes they're close to blinding me with their white brilliance, illuminating the rest of my dark room, but not my soul or my morale. Infact, quite the opposite. The microsecond that the room is illuminated, the prevelance of the rising damp is revealed as day by day it edges its way up the wall covered in peeling paint. The otherwise bare white walls infront of me only provide a blank backdrop for the view that I'm accustomed to every day. The odd rat or cockroach is in plain sight during an occasional flash from the black box, but they don't stay in here long, so why should I bother them if they don't bother me? An overflowing litter bin to my right and a long since dead plant off the end of the couch frame the television which provides me with my link to the outside world. The table behind me is heaped with stacks of bills that tower and lurch over me.
Depressing, eh? I would've thought that if I were you, but as it is I'm resigned to the fact that this place is a tip and I can't be bothered to change it.
Haven't been paid in months, my mates all seem to have become disconnected from me and I've replaced them with friends of my own. Stella, for example beckons me, even now. She's one of my nearest and dearest. She holds a place in my heart and like a cheap prostitute, I keep coming back for more. Some say they feel intoxicated by their loved one, but they don't know what they're on about until they've had a week with mine. I've spent three years with her now and She's always been there for me. She's cold to the touch, but smooth to the lips and touches me deep inside. Whenever I have a problem, Stella always has the answer. She doesn't talk that much at first, but after I've had a bit of her She speaks volumes to me. My blood flows like a river and my mind is at ease when I'm with her.
Stella is the closest person in my life right now and despite my financial woes and other plights, she stays with me through thick and thin. I don't think I could ever leave her.