It was cold, and no matter how hard he pulled at the covers, there wasn’t enough to keep him warm. It wasn’t the first time he had woken at 4am, and it wouldn’t be the last. A cool chill covered his body as he stared at the ceiling; he took a deep breath as he.

The thought of company lingered for a moment, then passed just like draft that had conjured it. While the fire would be warm, the company can sometimes be just as cold as a dark alley, hidden from sight. The gamble between idle company and insanity is daily risk. Pausing on the street corner, I glanced.

I woke up in an alleyway, alone and afraid. It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. I found myself slumped against the side wall, in the shadows where no one could see me. Not wanting to risk drawing attention to my state; not that anyone was around to care. It was still.

I lie awake knowing it is to early. The smell of a newly created day drifts in through the ajar window. The curtains are open and I watch the rain, listening to it beat softly on the roof. The scent of the rain and the sound each drop creates holds an energy of life newly.

I woke up, the sun glowing obliquely through the half opened window, while the room basked in an orange shade of light that brings warmth, outside the sky is a deep blue without obstruction in its path. The light breeze flowing into the room smells of a fresh day, clean and full of life. I.

I sit awake in this dark of night, no thought, no sound, just self. Consumed and just listening. Never have I been able to recognize it so aptly until now, this desolate feeling. Days go on and we watch the world argue with itself, the agony it causes, and it consumes me. There is a.

He was staring down at the blade of the knife, showing no real expression and fearing nothing. It was a situation where any normal person would have fallen apart, but he still stood strong, staring death in the face. The sun’s glare was blocked out by his baseball cap, as it provided shade across his.