Feel

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Outside in the land of the living, the storm had finally begun. Weeks of endlessly sapping heat that remained as a constant at night had now been confronted by a cold front. Clouds had gathered to watch electricity dance down towards the earths skin and booming claps accompanied to show their joyful appreciation.

The rain battered relentlessly against the glass of his bay window where he sat watching the chaotic patterns of water being lured downwards by gravity and forming into puddles on the driveway outside. His knuckles were white from where they were clenched tightly and he held the base of his index finger in his mouth – applying pressure with his front teeth.

So much pressure that an imprint was visible once he had finally released the grip, the tooth marks remained – as too did his mood which was black to the world around him. Hatred, discontent, all existed within him and without him.

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