A cold night moon lit night, a fresh clean blanket of snow lay to cover the ground. An old man is walking down a dimly lit alleyway, staggering side to side. The old man's face covered by over grown hair and his eyes are tried, and faded. His refuge from the cold in a brown paper bag. A bottle always held the answers to his life's problems, though he knows it caused more then solved. He feels the nip of cold on his face and the bitting pain on his feet the beginnings of frostbite, the man takes a swig to numb. He thinks and wonders how long since sleep has taken him or has at least rested his legs. Finding a place out of the wind he sits and tries to close his eyes for a little while, but a cold hand continues to shake him a wake. The old man cold, weary and with bottle in hand gets up and staggers on into the cold night searching for rest that is never to be found.
As always I remain,
The Destroyer of Worlds
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7 comments:
Is this about that homeless guy that died in that guy's back yard recently?
No I try not to base my blogs off of current events, I guess this just happens to coincide with one. It has been several weeks since I last watched the news, a bit of a side note though I was going to let the man in my blog die but I couldn't think of a good way of going about it with out it becoming cliché and somewhat sappy.
That bum sounds like the man, I wish I had that paper bag right about now
joking. maybe
Thats quite sad... xx
Your blog is refreshingly blunt, dark and enlightening. This post reminds me of a person inside a deep trench, trying to climb out despite the dirt falling down from his clawing.
I see what you mean about the difficulty the government would have in taxing people for owning non-hybrid vehicles. But I am remaining optimistic, yet possibly naive, that an eco-friendly and sustainable solution will prevail.
Do you know what it's like to be hungry?
Do you know what it's like to choose between your phone bill and your groceries?
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