clawkwurk

Some random writing.

It was the best night of his life. The night he spent with the woman of his dreams. The flow of the evening was perfect. No names were given, no words were spoken, no time for second thoughts. It was about living in the now, being reckless and carefree. It was about breaking the monotony of day-to-day life. Alcohol, nicotine, and sex lingered about in the air. Most of all, the night was about the woman with chestnut hair, and olive eyes. The fair, soft skin, and the long slender legs. All of which a man could easily get lost in. The bar had a quiet crowd, and great music, classy and relaxed. He should have been happy here, this was his crowd, but not tonight. A switch had flipped, the man he was enjoyed this crowd. After lingering for a couple drinks he had decided to look for trouble.

It was the worst night of his life. It was crumbling, all of which he once knew, all of which once felt real to him. It was his anchor in the stormy waters of the city. A well paying job, down the drain. A steady home with a happy wife, moving on without him. She'd come home one day, one arm linked to the arm of another man. "Sign these" she said while the other hand tossed papers onto the table in front of her, landing quietly. She was trying to explain, to give some reason on why all this was happening. He was deaf with shock, he was deaf with the realization of what was happening. The music on the stereo seemed to drown itself out, her voice seemed to not make a sound at all. He fumbled for a pen, stumbling in the silence of it all. It was all reaction, no thought as he signed and made his way for the door. The last he had heard of her was the murmur of her yelling.