|
more crappy writing
Well, at least instead of not being able to write, period . I just can't write anything good. It's getting better. Maybe in ten years I'll be able to publish something.
Fuck him. Fuck this whole miserable existence. Cars were whizzing by him, but he paid no attention to them. The task of walking the whole bridge on the railing was quite difficult. He had taken his shoes off a long time ago, and was trying not to look down. It looked quite cold, and very far away. Painful. He managed to glance up from his pink toes and was not pleased by what he saw. That ass was running as fast as he could, which was pretty fast. His brown hair was pressed back by the wind, and his lips were open… no. Fuck him. Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. This green, cold metal underfoot was far more interesting than the way his muscles rippled. Fuck him. John finally reached him and stood panting next to him. Nikka ignored him and continued forward motion. “Don’t, Nikka,” John gasped. Nikka looked over at him nonchalantly. “Don’t do what?” he asked. “Don’t jump.” Nikka laughed at that, laughed so hard he fell over. His ribs hit the bar painfully, and before he had a chance to do anything, he was falling. Oh shit oh shit oh shit - one belly flop full of burning agony later, he realized he was alive. He gave four hard strokes with his arms and his head came out of the water. He took a huge breath and started yelling. “You fucking idiot! Do NOT make me LAUGH when I am DOING that!” He started doggy paddling towards land. It was fucking freezing, the water, this early in the year. “I could just about KILL you! Do you even KNOW how much that fucking HURT?” Overhead, several cars stopped. John was no doubt running towards him as fast as he could, which would probably take eternity. Fucking cold.
|
