posted on Aug, 12 2016 @ 12:35 AM
You can smell it in the air; tonight it will rain. I light a cigarette in the darkness of my living room, and I am alone. It won't be long now. Soon
the Rain will be here.
I head off on foot to the liquor store at the corner of my street. What happened to this place? As a child, the liquor store building was a
bakery. No one is interested in bread now. Sin runs the streets.
I say hello to the clerk, and head directly to the cheapest bourbon I can find. Tonight it's not about taste. I pay with a $10 and tell the
clerk to keep the change. He is hardly appreciate. Asshole.
Only half a block to go; I can see my house now. As I walk toward my door, I toss the now empty liter of what was bourbon onto my lawn. # it.
I take a seat on the weathered rocking chair that I had for so long taken for granted. It squeaks as I pull out my last cigarette and light it.
The rain is here now.
I think to myself that this is as beautiful a moment as any other. Now is the time. Pulling the razor blade from my pocket, I slowly cut down
deep into both of my wrists. A crimson surge of blood lets me know I did a great job.
As the reality of the situation sets in, I know that I want to feel the rain on my skin one last time. Stumbling to my lawn, I take a seat in the
grass. I'll miss the smell of rain.