Jan 31, 2016
Late night thoughts:
Why confess when you're not ready to commit?
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Late night thoughts:
Why confess when you're not ready to commit?
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Have you ever just sat there and thought about that one person in your life that you'd do anything for; you hear there name alone and your heart sends shivers down your spine and sparks that smile on your face because you know that you've fallen in love with them and you'd try to do anything for them, anything. There smile alone makes you want to collapse into yourself, you can't clear any thoughts of them, you need them...the sad thing is, that person doesn't know you exist.
The Hotel
The other day I had an idea for a short story. Now I haven't planned it out nor have I put in place the usual quality control which I usually do with my writing. However I thought let me give it a try and just post it on a regualr basis. So I will post little bits of the story on a random basis and hopefully you'll follow and enjoy it.
The concierge stood at the door. His eyes transfixed on the paperwork in front of him and his pen flowing over the sheet with a firm swish. Where I was? I had no clue nor did I know how I got there. The last thing I remembered was me in the confines of my flat as the mixture of bourbon and cigar smoke had made a fool of me at my work party. My blazer felt clumsy to take off while I kicked my shoes off with no regard for where they landed. I hadn’t bothered to turn the light on and as a result the perfectly laid out decor of my small flat turned into a maze which made my intoxication even more apparent. Loosening one arm out of the grips of my blazer I held the other arm and managed to wrestle out of the constraints of it. The small victory was nullified by the even harder task of getting to my bed in a flat I could scarce remember the outline of talk less of the safest route to my room. I put my hands out in front of me in antennae like fashion while putting my feet one behind the other ensuring I did not make the wrong step.
“I wish I didn’t drink so much”. My words cut through the eerie silence of my flat. The floor felt icy under my socks causing a gripping, freezing sensation as I slowly stepped towards what I believed to be my room. The warm grip of alcohol poisoned my blood leaving my mind clouded and disorientated whilst my hands found the handle to open my bedroom door. In a lunge I made it unto my bed. The soft silk sheets felt rugged against my muddy, dirty fingers while my body cocooned in the sheets.