She looked at her client perched on her couch. “Tell me again what’s wrong?”
He didn’t dignify her with a response.
“Really? You don’t want to say anything?”
It didn’t seem to alter his disposition. He closed his eyes to slits and stared at her
Now these were the times she wished she had thought about this if this was the right career for her
Knowing this, would she have not gone into cat psychology? Probably not. Mr. Butters left the couch and jumped onto her lap as if to seal the deal. Purrrrfection!
Giving a toss of the dice, he closed his eyes
And projected the vision he needed as he heard them hit the table
Maybe if he truly believe, his luck would decide to work
But belief and seven bucks would buy him a venti latte at Starbucks
Looking at the pips he shook his head dejectedly. He’d have to go to work tomorrow
Except it wasn’t time to leave yet. He pulled out the last of his bankroll
Baby porcelain doll, the last one her daughter had ever held, burst into sharp shards as it hit the floor
Releasing so many emotions in her, some she thought she had closed within that small casket
Everyone around her just stopped and stared, silent, not knowing what to do or say
As she watched those pieces scatter she started drowning in a psychological flood
Keeping the tears away was impossible as she felt something inside of her…
Closed off and hurting, licking his wounds
As guards paraded around the bars like small moons orbiting him
Gideon smiled, wiping away the blood from his nose
Everyone thought he was doomed to die at sunrise
Didn’t understand he needed to be close, that he allowed himself to be captured… Their screams started
Outside she was closed, boarded up with locks and everything
People passing by saw there was absolutely no way in
Except that one guy that came by every day and sat there and listened
Now they are each other’s happily ever after
Putting her money where her mouth is was always difficult
It seemed easier to not think and go with her heart in those circumstances
Casting the dice down the green felted table, she closed her eyes
Knowing that whatever happened, her life was going to be changed forever
Something about sitting down, eyes closed, not moving
The outside slows down and the inside opens up
It allows you to shed the pull of society’s hectic current
Letting you find a spot of calm that is at your core
Leaving you reenergized when you emerge from being…
Tossing insults like darts and getting bullseyes
He smiled at the silent marks drinking their cheap whiskey from the bottle
Reaching for a cigarette, he lit it and blew smoke at them
Only there still wasn’t a peep. He closed his eyes and took another drag
Which is why he didn’t see the bottle fly into his nose
But the plot will come if you just type words. You just have to believe.
Like that would really happen. He laughed bitterly.
All it meant was the letter vomit on the page might be some sort of Rorschach story form.
He closed the document and went to bed. He had seen enough.