Spaccone
I was left walking silently alone among the dead leaves. My feet kicked them out of the way in flutters along my trip.
I could feel the breeze in my lungs. The sun was setting in a gold-ish red hue that it always does.
I took another drag of my cigarette and set the leaves ablaze while I choked up the smog.
They were talking. I'm not sure if they were talking to me, but I could hear them clearly. One of them said quite loudly, "It will be okay." I knew that they must have been at least projecting in my direction.
I turned my head in all directions and I couldn't see a single soul. I looked inside. They were me.
I can smell it. It is smoldering, like coal burning in the oven. The train of my mind is motivated by it's scent. The thing is deep inside me and it's curious. Overall it is a symbol, but slowly the soul is roasting.
There was a light shining through a window, and a gleam of solid gold. She slept breathlessly, and all I could see was the gold. Not the gold in her heart, but that bracelet peaking out from under the covers.