Monday, November 23, 2009

My back arches and in the twilight, feral cat sounds echo from the insides of dark alleys. My fngers explore the hopeless pages of a book, my mind is elsewhere. I sigh, contemplate the surroundings. I wonder, maybe if I worked and plundered harder something good would happen; something other than this deep hole I've somehow led myself into.

The clouds are black.

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