You keep wandering. Resting on the ledge of a trashcan you see a cracked BIC lighter. The inner canister is unbroken and still has some fluid left, so you pocket it. The prospect of surviving in this place brings a coldness to your chest and an adrenaline spike to your blood.
Cold, desolate, dirty. No surprise your life has brought you to a place like this. In some ways you’ve known all along. Right from the first moment, something in you knew it would take you here. But still, something made you do it anyways. Something called to you. The possibility of more, maybe. The possibility of a thrill. Something worth living for. But of course, here you are, no different than any of the other schmucks. Perhaps you’ll perish in the same way as well. Just the same as the rest of them.
What are your moves for today, Friday July 7th, 2023
It’s Friday motherfuckers