Loved and lost
A amazing storyteller. Please read and enjoy.
He sits there, stoned face. His glass in one hand, the bottle in the other. He sits there, not just heartbroken, but every organ his body was made of was broken. Sitting in a lonely room, on a dark unlighted night. It seemed like stars ran away and the moon shut his light just to suit the man’s mood.He drank his first shot, second, third, forth.. What kind of alcohol was it? He should’ve been at least dizzy by now. He continued drinking.
Suicide thoughts decorated his dark mysterious mind. The picture of him hanging from a rope tied around his tattooed neck made him surprisingly happy. But no, it was a cowardice way to die.
Pills. He should take pills. That’s what he wanted. There had been hundreds of them, pills that his wife used to take but forgot to pack when she left him, better yet, dumped him.
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