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Distorted darkness fills my eyes. Nothing but the dingy flicker of a faulty streetlamp aids my vision, revealing a familiar cobbled pathway in static frames, flashing on and off. I find myself where I always do; every night, on the eve of that 12 O'clock tolling. In search of something new, a new horizon in the brimming black that fills my body.
A girl, insecure perhaps, but no less intelligent for it, is what I search for. A bit of perfection in my life, an opening of solace between the musty clouds. And that's all I see around me; wisps of smoke lingering in the air as they escape the lips of others like me, making shapes as they pass through solid air. A jester dancing between a group of nobodies, laughing heartily; a cocoon hatching into a butterfly before drifting away into the emptiness surrounding it.
But they ignore me. My passing averts no eyes or senses; they just stare on, examining the detailed walls in their eye line, whether or not they can see it at all.
All vacant, all free, but all watching deep down. An omnipresence that lays beneath the conscious, something my body neglects. But I must wander on. I'm not otherworldly, a phenomenon; I'm not special like the rest of them.
When a knoll sounds deep and slow I just let go. Freefall from my prism prison, all fades to black and white and nothing matters anymore. My pride slivers down the rancid sewers, my shame crawling beneath my step. My soul silently spreads its wings and takes off into deep flight. It will drop back down to Earth soon. Soon enough.
On I wander, with my newfound, age-old presence, nomad-stricken as my eyes bathe in and out of the blue moon. No bright lights beyond the crescent. Eyes pass me; a beauty none too far from perfection, a smile reaches my face. No. Too beautiful. Hide my face before it cracks.
A pitter-patter of water ahead begins to get louder, another beauty, so sweet and innocent. Naivety is the path to exploitation, and such a taste would be rich. She has troubles though. Forever tears locked within her eyes, but never touching the surface. Slowly degenerating and no one ever notices. No. Must carry on.
There is true beauty, in front of my face. So natural, so tender, so pretty. She stumbles past, in a haze of wine and cocaine. No. Perfection is self-loving.
Another flickering street lamp meets my view, hanging rigid above a small step. A girl sits, no, a woman, head down on the step. She peers up and gives me a smile; greeting me with a pale white face, deep red make-up shoddily applied, full eyelashes, some missing in the middle. She takes the cigarette from her mouth and smoke enters the sky; a sunset, a beautiful ocean, a sweeping desert. Long black hair falls down her face, messy but precise, green eyes stare up, waiting for a reply.
I smile back, and sit next to her.
Silence fills the air, and we both stare deeply into the abyss of darkness. I notice her bare legs shivering past a skirt.
"Are you cold?" I ask.
She nods and gets to her feet, before turning the handle on the door behind her.
"Would you like to... er..."
"Yes." I reply, before my chance is lost.
She walks in and leaves the rickety door open for me. The smell of smoke immediately enters my lungs, forming a mist clinging to the ceiling. We pass a broken set of stairs, encased in a thick dust, rigid shapes emanating from the break. We walk into a bedroom; clothes piled up in one corner, a wardrobe supported by a pile of books where a leg has snapped off, leaning slightly, bare floorboards damp and broken in places, rusty metal and dirty white sheets make up the bed. To me this is a castle.
We sat for a short while. She told me her name, and spoke of other inane subjects. Her voice would break on occasions, it made me shiver.
Then she stared into my eyes. We both knew. Her ribboned touch jolted my nerves; vision slightly impaired, her smiling face pulsating ahead of me. I didn't know where I was. I just closed my eyes and let passion take grasp.
All I remember is her body jolting.
The next morning I awoke, unfamiliar surroundings met my view. She was nowhere to be seen. I fell in love for one night, and never again.
I'll never forget her, though. She was moist, and had scales on her fingertips.
A girl, insecure perhaps, but no less intelligent for it, is what I search for. A bit of perfection in my life, an opening of solace between the musty clouds. And that's all I see around me; wisps of smoke lingering in the air as they escape the lips of others like me, making shapes as they pass through solid air. A jester dancing between a group of nobodies, laughing heartily; a cocoon hatching into a butterfly before drifting away into the emptiness surrounding it.
But they ignore me. My passing averts no eyes or senses; they just stare on, examining the detailed walls in their eye line, whether or not they can see it at all.
All vacant, all free, but all watching deep down. An omnipresence that lays beneath the conscious, something my body neglects. But I must wander on. I'm not otherworldly, a phenomenon; I'm not special like the rest of them.
When a knoll sounds deep and slow I just let go. Freefall from my prism prison, all fades to black and white and nothing matters anymore. My pride slivers down the rancid sewers, my shame crawling beneath my step. My soul silently spreads its wings and takes off into deep flight. It will drop back down to Earth soon. Soon enough.
On I wander, with my newfound, age-old presence, nomad-stricken as my eyes bathe in and out of the blue moon. No bright lights beyond the crescent. Eyes pass me; a beauty none too far from perfection, a smile reaches my face. No. Too beautiful. Hide my face before it cracks.
A pitter-patter of water ahead begins to get louder, another beauty, so sweet and innocent. Naivety is the path to exploitation, and such a taste would be rich. She has troubles though. Forever tears locked within her eyes, but never touching the surface. Slowly degenerating and no one ever notices. No. Must carry on.
There is true beauty, in front of my face. So natural, so tender, so pretty. She stumbles past, in a haze of wine and cocaine. No. Perfection is self-loving.
Another flickering street lamp meets my view, hanging rigid above a small step. A girl sits, no, a woman, head down on the step. She peers up and gives me a smile; greeting me with a pale white face, deep red make-up shoddily applied, full eyelashes, some missing in the middle. She takes the cigarette from her mouth and smoke enters the sky; a sunset, a beautiful ocean, a sweeping desert. Long black hair falls down her face, messy but precise, green eyes stare up, waiting for a reply.
I smile back, and sit next to her.
Silence fills the air, and we both stare deeply into the abyss of darkness. I notice her bare legs shivering past a skirt.
"Are you cold?" I ask.
She nods and gets to her feet, before turning the handle on the door behind her.
"Would you like to... er..."
"Yes." I reply, before my chance is lost.
She walks in and leaves the rickety door open for me. The smell of smoke immediately enters my lungs, forming a mist clinging to the ceiling. We pass a broken set of stairs, encased in a thick dust, rigid shapes emanating from the break. We walk into a bedroom; clothes piled up in one corner, a wardrobe supported by a pile of books where a leg has snapped off, leaning slightly, bare floorboards damp and broken in places, rusty metal and dirty white sheets make up the bed. To me this is a castle.
We sat for a short while. She told me her name, and spoke of other inane subjects. Her voice would break on occasions, it made me shiver.
Then she stared into my eyes. We both knew. Her ribboned touch jolted my nerves; vision slightly impaired, her smiling face pulsating ahead of me. I didn't know where I was. I just closed my eyes and let passion take grasp.
All I remember is her body jolting.
The next morning I awoke, unfamiliar surroundings met my view. She was nowhere to be seen. I fell in love for one night, and never again.
I'll never forget her, though. She was moist, and had scales on her fingertips.
I too love how you write. The ending made me think that it should be in the Marvel comic. Introducing our new character 'The Serpant Lady' :D
Not surprising it is a night he'll not forget.
Not surprising it is a night he'll not forget.
Indeed, quite intriguing. I found the "red light" jaunt artfully clandestine. :D Nice prose, Ricky.
Mmm ... I love how you write.
Probably a little free in the middle for some, but it's all good to me.
Probably a little free in the middle for some, but it's all good to me.
Distorted darkness fills my eyes. Nothing but the dingy flicker of a faulty streetlamp aids my vision, revealing a familiar cobbled pathway in static frames, flashing on and off. I find myself where I always do; every night, on the eve of that 12 O'clock tolling. In search of something new, a new horizon in the brimming black that fills my body.
A girl, insecure perhaps, but no less intelligent for it, is what I search for. A bit of perfection in my life, an opening of solace between the musty clouds. And that's all I see around me; wisps of smoke lingering in the air as they escape the lips of others like me, making shapes as they pass through solid air. A jester dancing between a group of nobodies, laughing heartily; a cocoon hatching into a butterfly before drifting away into the emptiness surrounding it.
But they ignore me. My passing averts no eyes or senses; they just stare on, examining the detailed walls in their eye line, whether or not they can see it at all.
All vacant, all free, but all watching deep down. An omnipresence that lays beneath the conscious, something my body neglects. But I must wander on. I'm not otherworldly, a phenomenon; I'm not special like the rest of them.
When a knoll sounds deep and slow I just let go. Freefall from my prism prison, all fades to black and white and nothing matters anymore. My pride slivers down the rancid sewers, my shame crawling beneath my step. My soul silently spreads its wings and takes off into deep flight. It will drop back down to Earth soon. Soon enough.
On I wander, with my newfound, age-old presence, nomad-stricken as my eyes bathe in and out of the blue moon. No bright lights beyond the crescent. Eyes pass me; a beauty none too far from perfection, a smile reaches my face. No. Too beautiful. Hide my face before it cracks.
A pitter-patter of water ahead begins to get louder, another beauty, so sweet and innocent. Naivety is the path to exploitation, and such a taste would be rich. She has troubles though. Forever tears locked within her eyes, but never touching the surface. Slowly degenerating and no one ever notices. No. Must carry on.
There is true beauty, in front of my face. So natural, so tender, so pretty. She stumbles past, in a haze of wine and cocaine. No. Perfection is self-loving.
Another flickering street lamp meets my view, hanging rigid above a small step. A girl sits, no, a woman, head down on the step. She peers up and gives me a smile; greeting me with a pale white face, deep red make-up shoddily applied, full eyelashes, some missing in the middle. She takes the cigarette from her mouth and smoke enters the sky; a sunset, a beautiful ocean, a sweeping desert. Long black hair falls down her face, messy but precise, green eyes stare up, waiting for a reply.
I smile back, and sit next to her.
Silence fills the air, and we both stare deeply into the abyss of darkness. I notice her bare legs shivering past a skirt.
"Are you cold?" I ask.
She nods and gets to her feet, before turning the handle on the door behind her.
"Would you like to... er..."
"Yes." I reply, before my chance is lost.
She walks in and leaves the rickety door open for me. The smell of smoke immediately enters my lungs, forming a mist clinging to the ceiling. We pass a broken set of stairs, encased in a thick dust, rigid shapes emanating from the break. We walk into a bedroom; clothes piled up in one corner, a wardrobe supported by a pile of books where a leg has snapped off, leaning slightly, bare floorboards damp and broken in places, rusty metal and dirty white sheets make up the bed. To me this is a castle.
We sat for a short while. She told me her name, and spoke of other inane subjects. Her voice would break on occasions, it made me shiver.
Then she stared into my eyes. We both knew. Her ribboned touch jolted my nerves; vision slightly impaired, her smiling face pulsating ahead of me. I didn't know where I was. I just closed my eyes and let passion take grasp.
All I remember is her body jolting.
The next morning I awoke, unfamiliar surroundings met my view. She was nowhere to be seen. I fell in love for one night, and never again.
I'll never forget her, though. She was moist, and had scales on her fingertips.
A girl, insecure perhaps, but no less intelligent for it, is what I search for. A bit of perfection in my life, an opening of solace between the musty clouds. And that's all I see around me; wisps of smoke lingering in the air as they escape the lips of others like me, making shapes as they pass through solid air. A jester dancing between a group of nobodies, laughing heartily; a cocoon hatching into a butterfly before drifting away into the emptiness surrounding it.
But they ignore me. My passing averts no eyes or senses; they just stare on, examining the detailed walls in their eye line, whether or not they can see it at all.
All vacant, all free, but all watching deep down. An omnipresence that lays beneath the conscious, something my body neglects. But I must wander on. I'm not otherworldly, a phenomenon; I'm not special like the rest of them.
When a knoll sounds deep and slow I just let go. Freefall from my prism prison, all fades to black and white and nothing matters anymore. My pride slivers down the rancid sewers, my shame crawling beneath my step. My soul silently spreads its wings and takes off into deep flight. It will drop back down to Earth soon. Soon enough.
On I wander, with my newfound, age-old presence, nomad-stricken as my eyes bathe in and out of the blue moon. No bright lights beyond the crescent. Eyes pass me; a beauty none too far from perfection, a smile reaches my face. No. Too beautiful. Hide my face before it cracks.
A pitter-patter of water ahead begins to get louder, another beauty, so sweet and innocent. Naivety is the path to exploitation, and such a taste would be rich. She has troubles though. Forever tears locked within her eyes, but never touching the surface. Slowly degenerating and no one ever notices. No. Must carry on.
There is true beauty, in front of my face. So natural, so tender, so pretty. She stumbles past, in a haze of wine and cocaine. No. Perfection is self-loving.
Another flickering street lamp meets my view, hanging rigid above a small step. A girl sits, no, a woman, head down on the step. She peers up and gives me a smile; greeting me with a pale white face, deep red make-up shoddily applied, full eyelashes, some missing in the middle. She takes the cigarette from her mouth and smoke enters the sky; a sunset, a beautiful ocean, a sweeping desert. Long black hair falls down her face, messy but precise, green eyes stare up, waiting for a reply.
I smile back, and sit next to her.
Silence fills the air, and we both stare deeply into the abyss of darkness. I notice her bare legs shivering past a skirt.
"Are you cold?" I ask.
She nods and gets to her feet, before turning the handle on the door behind her.
"Would you like to... er..."
"Yes." I reply, before my chance is lost.
She walks in and leaves the rickety door open for me. The smell of smoke immediately enters my lungs, forming a mist clinging to the ceiling. We pass a broken set of stairs, encased in a thick dust, rigid shapes emanating from the break. We walk into a bedroom; clothes piled up in one corner, a wardrobe supported by a pile of books where a leg has snapped off, leaning slightly, bare floorboards damp and broken in places, rusty metal and dirty white sheets make up the bed. To me this is a castle.
We sat for a short while. She told me her name, and spoke of other inane subjects. Her voice would break on occasions, it made me shiver.
Then she stared into my eyes. We both knew. Her ribboned touch jolted my nerves; vision slightly impaired, her smiling face pulsating ahead of me. I didn't know where I was. I just closed my eyes and let passion take grasp.
All I remember is her body jolting.
The next morning I awoke, unfamiliar surroundings met my view. She was nowhere to be seen. I fell in love for one night, and never again.
I'll never forget her, though. She was moist, and had scales on her fingertips.