he takes a drag of his cigarette
and covers himself in a smog of amber-white smoke. [prose. paragraph format.]

08.09.09.


he takes a drag of his cigarette and covers himself in a smog of amber-white smoke. the lights hit him in incriminating angles, showing the blood trailing out of his mouth and the stains crusted on his swollen fists. dawn cracks the sky open and bleeds onto the horizon. he watches the morning and throws the cigarette to the ground. stomping, he snuffs out the firelight, dissolving it into streams of pathetic gray. a church bell tolls, and he creeps out of the alleyway. the cathedral towers over the eaves, and he grunts before roaming into the rose-tinted streets of home. rats scuttle by his feet.