he had no shoes and you could hardly call his shirt a shirt but he sat between those two trash cans like some king on his throne holding to a stick like a scepter He drank from an old rusty can of beans but held it like some golden goblet Clearly he lost the ability to taste because in the can he mixed all he could find in the trash Beer with vodka with tequila with wine and acetone and rubbing alcohol He had a fearsome guardian about him A white dog who constantly licked his vomit from the ground It looked black and spongy like coffee grounds Some passersby offered to help him and he refused This was a king who would go down with honor after he lost his kingdom
the little girl was scared at first but now she was terrified and about to have a panic attack He kept her tight in his arms and covered her ears and told her to calm down and that everything will be all right It was 02:24 AM and the knocks in the door and all around the walls and windows still carried on And there were howls coming from outside and curses and a constant sound of nails scratching on wood “Daddy, I’m scared! I’m…” “I know, dear, I know. But you have to calm down. Remember to focus on your breathing like I told you. Deep, deep breaths, okay? Deep. In and out. I promise you, tomorrow everything’s gonna be fine. I swear.” “Is it zombies?” asked the little girl. “No, dear. It’s something else.” “What’s it called?” “An ex-girlfriend, dear.”
By Bogman Dragos
the worst part about being alone and sick is being sick but perhaps the second worst is having no one to comfort you He reminded himself aloud that it was his own choice and rolled on the carpet and pushed his thumbs inside his eyes The head was killing him, like the brain grew legs and constantly kneed his eyeballs from the inside, seeking to push them out like caps of beer bottles and exit through the holes And his stomach wasn't any better although it got everything out some time ago The first few coughs came with liquid, pungent vomit but now there was only blood "You can only get what you deserve," whispered the faded silhouette from the mirror. "You might think all this is caused by the bottle of wine you found while dumpster diving as you do. It…
View original post 141 more words
he sits alone in the darkness on a wooden chair The walls surrounding him have no mirrors and the windows are covered by the thickest blinds He doesn’t want to see his old age and the decay that already started consuming his body In his mind he’s still young, still in his early twenties still dreaming He’s listening to music He’s playing the music and it exhausts him The music comes from within An instrument with strings His growling guts He lubricates them with more beer
Well, when you’re desperate you’re…
“Me,” he said. He was alone in the room and lonely enough to have bought one of those Ouija boards from some old woman who called herself a medium. It was time to try it out.
All he hoped for was a sexy ghost that would haunt him, maybe hurt him a bit, he wouldn’t mind. Anything just to take away the soul-crushing loneliness. Anything!
He said the prayers exactly as the medium instructed and did the breathing exercises and was ready to use the board. He moved the piece to spell HELLO. Got no answer. Looked around the room. Nothing. Again, he spelled HELLO. IS ANYONE HERE? ANYONE AT ALL? ARE YOU FEMALE? Nothing. Nothing new at least. Only more loneliness and more frustration and deeper down the rabbit hole of misfits he slipped.
WELL FUCK YOU! he spelled, and jammed the pointy side…
View original post 150 more words
he opened another beer and sat on the couch but turned off the TV He watched the kid The kid was on his knees before the coffee table busy with an orange pencil and a piece of paper Tongue poked to one side and held firmly between the lips, he was writing letters to the pet dog he’ll never see again And he did that all day long Dad sipped at his beer. The years of action were far beyond him now but by all the gods he swore tonight will be the night he sneaks into his ex-wife’s home and kidnaps the dog He even rented a van for it
A pretty thick slice of hell That was life so far But today things will change Today he was six years old and that meant old enough to guide his blind father on the streets The old man was only blind for a year after some work related accident involving acid And there was a mother somewhere too. She left shortly after father’s accident Today father held on to his son’s shirt at the shoulder and told him to walk towards the railway “I want to listen to the train,” said father but it turned out he wanted much more than that. He wanted to feel the train. Against his face So he stood on the rails and told the kid to go back home and return after an hour or so “Okay,” said the kid. But he didn’t leave. He watched from a safe distance Didn’t even find the event particularly disturbing Then he went back home and had some fruit loops with milk and his first taste of beer He had become a man
She could say it if she wanted to but the words would carry no weight behind them like a cat shaking the paw with you and not understanding the real meaning behind the gesture so was her every “I love you.” Enough to make an old boy cry but he preferred suicide Needless to say her response was “Meh.”
There was a dog outside and it kept barking for some reason. Ah yes, it was chained and the chain was terribly short and the poor animal was hungry.
Mother wouldn’t bother feeding it. No, mother wanted it to die because it had been father’s dog, inherited along with the house after father died. Mother forbade feeding the poor thing.
Her child stood next to the window and listened to the poor thing barking outside. It was better than listening to mother drinking and talking ugly words with her boyfriends.
He opened the window and the dog saw him immediately and barked at him. He wanted to cry. Tried talking to the creature but it wouldn’t listen. It kept barking.
“Mother would cut my hand off if she caught me stealing food for you.”
But he was a smart kid. He leaned over the window and thrust two fingers down…
View original post 82 more words
in nights like this he would just drink in the dark and smoke and lie on his side and hallucinate about a snake vomiting vibrating colors on a white wall Maybe the snake had eaten paint But it was a small snake no bigger than a worm and the amount of dancing colors it vomited all over was astounding Enough to paint the whole house But the colors would never stay on the things they fell upon The colors would bounce around and dance and vibrate mingle with each other and part and mix again and the small snake would vomit some more and it would make a sound like babies crying All he wanted in times like these was to crawl over to the poor snake and comfort it in some way pat its head, place it in his armpit to get warm…
View original post 65 more words