nicktruden
It went off this morning when I was already awake. I tossed and turned all night from restlessness in an already exhausted state of mind. It was inevitable that the day was going to start off terribly, but, to my surprise, it's been pretty all right. It's also raining.
I tried killing myself but the blade was dull. Just my luck. Just then the phone rang. Some guy named "God" was on the phone. He tried to sell me this new kind of razor blade that won't go dull. Today's my lucky day I thought to myself.
I want to catapult myself to the moon. To another place. I want to be transported by a solid rocket booster. Liquid fuel. Powerful. Bright. So that everyone can see me from miles away when I land on two feet.
He quickly shut the door behind him as he heard the sound of footsteps running past the door. Someone told one of the persons to go right, the other left. It was too dark to see, his eyes hadn't adjusted yet. He felt around and felt nothing but stone and mortar.
writing since 2011 · 4 entries · 3 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Nick showed up.
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the words Nick reaches for
doorbladedullphonealreadyquicklyshutbehindheardsoundfootstepsrunningpastpersonsdarkeyes