The wind roared and the rain poured outside his apartment; there was water running off the awning of his balcony in sheets. He’s learned that storms like to feed on the energy produced by cities, and the warm concrete and reflective surfaces provided plenty of it. The wind also funneled in between the buildings, becoming faster and- was that the neighbor’s deck umbrella? It shot out across his line of vision like a rainbow torpedo, just as he was about to take a sip of his coffee. It would likely land on someone’s car, maybe bust a window. He anticipated the obnoxious sound of a car alarm, but when it didn’t come, he shrugged and turned away.
The news echoed throughout the living room, keeping the silence at bay. It provided some comfort for him, to have that connection to the world, to know what was going on. He blamed his father. The old man was an academic and had immersed himself into politics, even going so far as to fund several campaigns.
Alex wondered how he was doing, what with the United States in disrepair.
He zeroed in on the piece of paper he had stuck to his refrigerator, letting it pull his mind in another direction. A friend had given it to him a few days ago. It was for some… psychic. He didn’t really believe in the practice, but he humored him and took the number anyway.
Of course, Alex had no intention of calling any time soon, if at all.
But, what if?
No, think logically…
*****, you’re learning spells.
He took another sip of his coffee and glanced down at all of the herbs and bones he’s collected over the past two days. He had them spread out on the counter top, with a towel between them and the granite. It was a decent haul- one he could be proud of.
Later that day:
Who knew giving a ball back to a kid would land him on the list of ‘shoot first, ask questions later.’ It was odd how people took pictures of the event. Why. He was pretty careful when it came to his thievery and B&Es; he’s had minimal trouble before this, so he couldn’t have been recognized for anything, right? Did he look suspicious? Creepy? Did they not see the ball pelt him in the head? He could have been an ******* and slammed the ball in the kid’s face like it was a fifth grade dodgeball tournament- but he didn’t, because he was a good guy and had self-control; he wasn’t the type to hurt a kid, no matter how annoying they were.
****
Disgruntled and drugged, Alex rested at home, on his couch, with bandages covering the wounds at his stomach and right bicep. He didn’t want to go to the hospital, but Eloise- bless her heart- had insisted after he offered to get the bullet out himself (he would have used pliers and alcohol and would have most likely ended up in the hospital with a serious infection anyway).
Alex pushed himself up and snatched the leather-bound notebook from his coffee table. It was a gift from his brother, but he’s never used it. He just thought it looked good sitting there. Be good to catalog stuff... he mused. He would be weakened for a couple of days and have extra downtime, so why not? He even recalled his former therapist, years ago, mentioning something about keeping a journal, to help organize his thoughts; ”Think of it as another me,” he said, ”Tell it anything and everything.”
He sighed and went to the first page. It was all blank, of course, untouched since 2006.
Journal: You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
Remember to ignore people from now on and to call Eloise later.
Also, get a dog.
[insert doodles of dogs]
I need a dog.
The news echoed throughout the living room, keeping the silence at bay. It provided some comfort for him, to have that connection to the world, to know what was going on. He blamed his father. The old man was an academic and had immersed himself into politics, even going so far as to fund several campaigns.
Alex wondered how he was doing, what with the United States in disrepair.
He zeroed in on the piece of paper he had stuck to his refrigerator, letting it pull his mind in another direction. A friend had given it to him a few days ago. It was for some… psychic. He didn’t really believe in the practice, but he humored him and took the number anyway.
Of course, Alex had no intention of calling any time soon, if at all.
But, what if?
No, think logically…
*****, you’re learning spells.
He took another sip of his coffee and glanced down at all of the herbs and bones he’s collected over the past two days. He had them spread out on the counter top, with a towel between them and the granite. It was a decent haul- one he could be proud of.
Later that day:
Who knew giving a ball back to a kid would land him on the list of ‘shoot first, ask questions later.’ It was odd how people took pictures of the event. Why. He was pretty careful when it came to his thievery and B&Es; he’s had minimal trouble before this, so he couldn’t have been recognized for anything, right? Did he look suspicious? Creepy? Did they not see the ball pelt him in the head? He could have been an ******* and slammed the ball in the kid’s face like it was a fifth grade dodgeball tournament- but he didn’t, because he was a good guy and had self-control; he wasn’t the type to hurt a kid, no matter how annoying they were.
****
Disgruntled and drugged, Alex rested at home, on his couch, with bandages covering the wounds at his stomach and right bicep. He didn’t want to go to the hospital, but Eloise- bless her heart- had insisted after he offered to get the bullet out himself (he would have used pliers and alcohol and would have most likely ended up in the hospital with a serious infection anyway).
Alex pushed himself up and snatched the leather-bound notebook from his coffee table. It was a gift from his brother, but he’s never used it. He just thought it looked good sitting there. Be good to catalog stuff... he mused. He would be weakened for a couple of days and have extra downtime, so why not? He even recalled his former therapist, years ago, mentioning something about keeping a journal, to help organize his thoughts; ”Think of it as another me,” he said, ”Tell it anything and everything.”
He sighed and went to the first page. It was all blank, of course, untouched since 2006.
Journal: You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
Remember to ignore people from now on and to call Eloise later.
Also, get a dog.
[insert doodles of dogs]
![[insert doodles of dogs]](https://i.imgur.com/dEgYJydm.png){kind=link}
I need a dog.
