"Kill me already!"
My eyes feasted on a girl on the edge of the building, Scotch Whiskey in hand and a cigarette in another, yelling at the midnight sky.
Friday Flash Fiction |
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The rooftop is where the sun and the moon gaze at one another, not in anger but contentment for what one has done for the lost souls wandering the earth. At times they cry for those who have lost their lives in the place where one feels most alive.
"Kill me already!" My eyes feasted on a girl on the edge of the building, Scotch Whiskey in hand and a cigarette in another, yelling at the midnight sky.
Sue Clayton
19/12/2020 05:11:13 am
Obscure sorrow cries out again to the sun and moon in melancholy despair. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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