It is the dead of night.
Ha, what a coincidence. I can hear the hounds howling in the far off distance, I can hear the traffic, I can hear my own heart beating.
.
It is chilly.
The air is crisp, and in defense of that it is mid October and I am sitting in the balcony with hardly anything on.
.
It is eleven.
My mind is once again at war, the same battle that it has been fighting for a very long time now. The same conflicts, the same prolonged struggle of the mere mortal human soul.
.
It is silent. It is tranquil. It is still.
The traffic is gone, even the grasshoppers have decided to take a break. I'm down 5 cups of coffee and I can see what I hear and hear what I see.
.
It is time.
You must be wondering "What about his heartbeat?"
Well theoretically, I was only 2 stories short.
But only in theory.
Trust me, I checked.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 1:35 AM UTC
It is the dead of night.
Ha, what a coincidence. I can hear the hounds howling in the far off distance, I can hear the traffic, I can hear my own heart beating.
.
It is chilly.
The air is crisp, and in defense of that it is mid October and I am sitting in the balcony with hardly anything on.
.
It is eleven.
My mind is once again at war, the same battle that it has been fighting for a very long time now. The same conflicts, the same prolonged struggle of the mere mortal human soul.
.
It is silent. It is tranquil. It is still.
The traffic is gone, even the grasshoppers have decided to take a break. I'm down 5 cups of coffee and I can see what I hear and hear what I see.
.
It is time.
You must be wondering "What about his heartbeat?"
Well theoretically, I was only 2 stories short.
But only in theory.
Trust me, I checked.
