zephyr
We'll go for a swim, like Ma did.
At some point you finished the whiskey. At another point someone gave you more, because what's having a crew of thieves and hooligans for if not getting yourself wasted as all fuck? You're about a quarter of the way through it at this point, and the sun is going down in a brilliant array of colors. No rain, that'd be too thematically appropriate; instead the clouds have captured the fading light, basking you in an array of reds and golds. It'd be a perfect fucking evening for a romantic stroll, or a family picnic.
Or a swim. Like Ma did.
Even though it's a busy time nobody is on this stretch of dock. You claimed this pier with a rarely seen ferocity, and anyone who knows you knows not to even try. Bless the brave soul who brought you the whiskey; now kindly fuck off, thanks.
Speaking of. You take another long, hard pull and set the bottle down. The water is dark and wild from wind; a great night for a swim you don't intend to come back from. You've thought about it a million times, but it's never felt so easily in reach. You could sink into the water and disappear and who would honestly give a shit? Another alcoholic taken by the waves, too bad so sad an all that jazz.
It's as good thing you're not standing, as drunk as you are. Truth is you might have jumped a long time ago, but you don't trust yourself to sink. You're too hollow now, emptied out of everything that made you who you were. Like driftwood you float along through the world, not quite alive but unable to die. Stuck in the purgatory of those left behind.
So let's pour one out for the ghosts.
At some point you finished the whiskey. At another point someone gave you more, because what's having a crew of thieves and hooligans for if not getting yourself wasted as all fuck? You're about a quarter of the way through it at this point, and the sun is going down in a brilliant array of colors. No rain, that'd be too thematically appropriate; instead the clouds have captured the fading light, basking you in an array of reds and golds. It'd be a perfect fucking evening for a romantic stroll, or a family picnic.
Or a swim. Like Ma did.
Even though it's a busy time nobody is on this stretch of dock. You claimed this pier with a rarely seen ferocity, and anyone who knows you knows not to even try. Bless the brave soul who brought you the whiskey; now kindly fuck off, thanks.
Speaking of. You take another long, hard pull and set the bottle down. The water is dark and wild from wind; a great night for a swim you don't intend to come back from. You've thought about it a million times, but it's never felt so easily in reach. You could sink into the water and disappear and who would honestly give a shit? Another alcoholic taken by the waves, too bad so sad an all that jazz.
It's as good thing you're not standing, as drunk as you are. Truth is you might have jumped a long time ago, but you don't trust yourself to sink. You're too hollow now, emptied out of everything that made you who you were. Like driftwood you float along through the world, not quite alive but unable to die. Stuck in the purgatory of those left behind.
So let's pour one out for the ghosts.
burn all the things you have to burn
save all the people you're supposed to save
save all the people you're supposed to save
