superogue-KD

Drip. That damn faucet is crying again. Every morning I wake up to that damn thing weeping down that damn rusty drain in that damn fungus fellowed sink. It's enough to drive someone damn mad! This place could drive anyone mad. Every damn day it's the same. Grey empty wall. Grey empty floors. Grey empty ceilings. Grey empty bars. The damn sky's probably grey. But, I wouldn't know, I don't have a damn window. Looking between the cold grey bars of my cold grey cell all I see are other old grey faces. They don't smile, they don't talk, they probably don't even cry. Just that damn faucet! Surveying the other cells I can see them stretch as far as

“It's cold in here.” “We're in a meat locker, what did you expect, Sol?” “Jeez, why're you so snappy tonight?” “I'm not 'snappy'. It's jus' I don't need a bloody weather report every time we go somewhere.” “It was just an observation.” “Well, keep em', to yourself. Fuckin' yanks.” “Since it's the middle of fucking July, I didn't think I'd need a parka, Miles. How long are we going to be in here anyway?” “Til' the job's done.” “Well, aren't you just full of information? You know, if you kept any more secrets from me, we'd probably never end up speaking

Water cascades down upon me. Each cool droplet rains down on my back as I contemplate. The water feels like a reassuring drum role thrumming out a cadence meant only for me. My thoughts are brooding, dark, depressing. I stand there letting my teardrops roll down my cheeks, mingling with the water flowing over my body. My bare chest rises and falls as I take one deep breath after another, while my heart matches the water drops in its own hammering staccato. A mixture of emotions flood through me like a torrential river, washing everything away, leaving me nothing but anguish and pain. Inside I burn. Outside I shiver with the cold rain, no lon