Post by Jesse Rowan on Feb 2, 2008 14:48:46 GMT
Jesse just come out of a cafe and book shop where he just spent the last hour listening to a reading by some new author over a cup of orange flavoured Lipton tea. He stood there outside the door way, trying to decided which way to go. He pulled the hood of his grey sweater over his head and turned right and ventured into the cold night.
As he walked, he watched people pass by him and cars drive by the right of him, everyone going about their normal lives, mostly. He took a cool breath then he just turned, not caring where he was going, but he ended up on an alley. It was quiet, the apartments on both sides were either boarded up or the occupants had already one to bed, except for one he passed where he could see the flickering off the light from the television through the window.
He reached into the coat pocket and pulled out the small novel by the writer...Edward Costelle. he looked at the book which the author himself signed before he handed out copies to the small audience, he turned too look at the signature on the back then he stopped in his tracks.
He felt like he was watch a black and white TV that only he could see because it was in his head, he was having a vision, he saw Edward Costelle, walking home alone one night, it was raining, and he stopped off the sidewalk so as to cross the road but a car was coming at him and he froze, the driver tried to swerve but Edward still got hit, and that was the end of him, and the end of the vision. He looked at the front of the book again then placed it back in his coat pocket as if he didn't see anything worth seeing then he continued walking, thunder rumbling over head.
As he walked, he watched people pass by him and cars drive by the right of him, everyone going about their normal lives, mostly. He took a cool breath then he just turned, not caring where he was going, but he ended up on an alley. It was quiet, the apartments on both sides were either boarded up or the occupants had already one to bed, except for one he passed where he could see the flickering off the light from the television through the window.
He reached into the coat pocket and pulled out the small novel by the writer...Edward Costelle. he looked at the book which the author himself signed before he handed out copies to the small audience, he turned too look at the signature on the back then he stopped in his tracks.
He felt like he was watch a black and white TV that only he could see because it was in his head, he was having a vision, he saw Edward Costelle, walking home alone one night, it was raining, and he stopped off the sidewalk so as to cross the road but a car was coming at him and he froze, the driver tried to swerve but Edward still got hit, and that was the end of him, and the end of the vision. He looked at the front of the book again then placed it back in his coat pocket as if he didn't see anything worth seeing then he continued walking, thunder rumbling over head.
