"Looks like life has taken a back seat. Everyday brings in its own load of troubles and dumps it on you. You just waddle in all that shit to stay afloat. Until someone comes and flushes you down." Sounds great isn't it? The writer asked his audience of an empty chair and a scraggy cat. The cat got startled by the sudden outburst. The chair just sat there dazed, like the millions of editors he had assaulted with his manuscripts.
Looks like the fog just spared my window to the street. The street lights looked liking smokers in an alley. The cobble stones were wet from the drizzle. The street dogs were busy barking at something. A breeze just unsettled the garbage can's lid. My world hasn't changed much. Everyday I look for some sign of change. Nothing seems to change. I have grown bald. My eyesight has dimmed. My kids have grown. The window pane has gathered dust and dirt. The spiders have evolved. Some old buildings have given way to new ones. The neon signs have gone. Still nothing seem to have changed. Change they say has to come from within. But then, what can come out of an empty narrow dead end?
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