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The smell of liquor rises from the shattered glass at my feet. Calmly, I take a long drag from the cigarette held between my two fingers. I take my time to truly appreciate the feeling of that good cigarette smoke entering my dry throat and filling up my lonely lungs. Then, let it out as the smoke lingers on in the cold damp air before disappearing as fast as it came, leaving behind its wake only an odour. The street lamp flickers overhead; as it blinks in and out I existence, with it comes what sounds like the sporadic chirps of electric birds.
In the darkness of the street I stand on pavement leaning my back onto the wall of a closed bar. Shadows haunt my mind as I recall my childhood memories. They are a funny things,memories. They can be completely forgotten and unimportant at one point then can become some trauma or a focal point to your personal development. Sadly my memories have always been a thing of nightmares.
A stranger approaches me, peering at me from behind his cigarette smoke. Clad in a brown long coat and scaled shoes with a long pointy wooden cane that he waves about, pointing it at me.
– “You!” He shouts loudly as his words echo in the silence of the streets. ” You’re that John fellow aren’t ya? The one they were talking about in the news. The one that disappeared!”
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