Madness Agency (Page 2)

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Rush

The air rushed past my face, exhilarating, loud in my ears. The travel posters were right, “See the view!” they said, and the view was incredible. You could see for miles from up here. Well, I was seeing less and less the more time flickered by. Rushing by, time, the

Tuesday

Tuesday was the first day Jack finally felt alone. He wept silently to himself as the drugs kicked in, riding the euphoria as it surged through his blood. Hiding the pain of his existence underneath the soothing fog of the hit. His stash was enough to go for a week

Cell

The hunger gnaws at his gut, a coiling monster within, wearing away his will to fight. Sapping his strength, reducing him to a weak and feeble creature. A lowly worm, almost unaware of higher vertebrate. Spineless, pitiful, unable to lift himself off the floor of his cell. They’d left

Fog (II)

I walked through fog like a drowning cat, each step an agonizing dance of pain, instead of the rats that sputtered their last breaths on the diseased streets I fought back and stood tall in the miasma of death.

Fog

The fog rolls in, slowly at first, enveloping and wrapping around the street corners, where the ladies of the night ply their trade. The quiet sounds of the tousled leaves as the wind sighs into the night. Alluring. The fog begins to thicken, tendrils now reaching out, reaching towards the

Flee

Chasing and running, its all he had left. Run, stop, pass out, leaning on what passed for trees in this cursed place, wake a moment later and run again. These fleeting moments of rest were the only thing keeping him from certain death the claws and teeth of those who

Tap tap

A soft tapping, the gentle sound of flesh hitting flesh. I look across the couch, an unwashed, unkempt face stares back at me. Tapping on his arm with a grimy finger, trying to find a vein. I can smell him from here, not that I can take the high ground,

Beginning

And so with no ceremony and even less fanfare, I begin my blog. A trumpet sound flubs out like a wet fart, staining the blank page of an imagined typewriter and daring the author to tarnish it further. Well, there... I did. Black smudges on white crystals, spinning electrons energizing

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