a child's game

a child's game

The sun was fast on its way down into the dark that no one living on this side of the world could know. The sky was a smoked gray-blue colour.

It matched the exhalation of Alec’s breath, laced with toxins and nicotine.

Alec was looking at the stars, every now and then sighing with unending exasperation. He was playing connect-the dots to entertain himself. It seemed simple, really. The unending expanse of gaseous nothingness could be summed up in a few geometric points and connecting lines.

The cigarette butt gave one last fiery glow, and then it became intimately introduced to the ever-loving asphalt. And Alec stepped back into the smoggy, jaundiced light of the building’s foyer. Well, more of a lobby. It wasn’t fancy or well-kept enough to be called a foyer. He was still getting used to having to smoke outside.

There were a few unhurried steps before his pale hands mauled open the soot-stained door. He didn’t even think about how everything was almost destroyed anymore. The scars had faded, after all. A quick thought about getting the drip from the floor above fixed, and he stepped out of the world and into the tangled sheets.

Vincent was still asleep.

And he himself, he supposed, was still able to be happy.