None of This Makes Him Real
The gate slowly opens after a loud buzzing sound, the guard says what they always do, don’t want to see you back here again, next time he won’t get caught, he walks into freedom, free with nowhere to go, 56 bucks all in singles in the pocket of pants too tight, no one to greet him, no one’s forgiveness, he knows he doesn’t deserve, should have pissed before he was released, now pissing where he stands.
Looking up at the sky, shadeing his eyes with his hand, deciding it looks like rain. Remembering his highschool girlfriend, backseat romance, can’t understand why he has this memory now, his mother will remind him how he ruined his life, ask again why he dropped out of college?
He and his little sister haven’t talked in years, can’t think of the reason why, it was probably something he said, but most likely money he stole, his bus is at 10 tomorrow morning, has a shot at a job as a painter. if he can show up on time.
All the signs say no sleeping in the bus depot, rent a cop gives him a glare, he steps thru doors to the outside, cars splash puddles when they drive by, his socks get wet from the holes in his shoes, everything he owns amounts to nothing packed in a garbage bag, a cop car slows down checking him out, the cop gives him the once over, he tries not to make eye contact, finds a small smile in between raindrops, good to know it hasn’t been lost. there’s a liquor store on the corner, he’s got nothing to lose, knowing none of this makes him real.
Horror Sleaze Trash 