Ten Minutes.

It’s dark, too dark for afternoon and I’ve set up a temporary kerbside office in my leaking car, taking a moment to still the fuzzy double vision of the lines that lead me home on the asphalt road. The sky is opening up to blanket me in roaring sheets of heaven sent crystal tears, as winter tries to pry her frostbitten fingers through the minute cracks between glass and rubber, to wrap her clammy hands around my pulsing throat..and squeeze.

As though there was life left in me to steal.

If it weren’t for the volatility and fatal attraction of electricity to rain, I’d slam my hand, in bitter spiked fury through the glass, to watch the splatter of blood and shattered window pane paint a story of loneliness masked in anger upon the indifferent canvas of grey; then washed away, sucked down the concrete drain to feed a hungrier beast than my own skipping heart beat.

I look at the clock.

Ten more minutes.

A car horn shocks me out of my reverie, as I pull back out, to join the others on the rain drenched road to nowhere.

~ by libertiness on June 16, 2008.