late night chill:
he tilts his head back,
blows air at the sky,
and watches it swirl away,
white clouds against
the endless blackness.
he watches it become swallowed
by the blanket of night;
wonders if that will happen
when he dies.
shakes his head,
looks back down,
and tries not to think
about it
as he walks
in front of the next
oncoming car

A/N: I was listening to the song "Always Move Fast", by Lydia, when I was writing this. It was originally going to be a short story that followed the song more closely, but then I couldn't bring myself to do that, so this is what came out instead. Leave me a review to let me know how you feel about it, or favorite, whatever suits your fancy. :)