elixiress

The moon is a peachy fuzz coloured lamp, sheltered by soft dark cloud blankets. Somewhere around the corner, a couple of rats squeak in agony (to my disgust), the multitude of their voices multiplying as they reverberate through the brick walls.    I choose to sit on a spot of grating not far off from the neighbourhood dump, fumes of a week’s worth of pizza, old lunch and rotten eggs wafting from the half-closed bin. The stench is nauseating; but I am used to it. About a yard away from me, lies dead, black, and wasted. A blackbird, apparently poisoned by the garbage of which it has religiously vultured upon until its last, sorry breath

A slightly tainted form of perfection. That's how she saw him. A boy of her age, standing across her to the left. God who is this guy? I know this gorgeous face from somewhere. It was noisy as hell in the dense, heated monorail cabin. She'd been clumsy enough to leave her wallet on her dresser(again) and had had to run back and get it. She was now 15 minutes later than usual, and had to catch the next train, which was, as she'd expected, twice as packed as it would've been had she remembered her darn wallet. It now sat quaintly in her bag on her lap. She stole a glance again. Long brown hair, pale skin, shabby clothes, vintage shoes, and a