Devin Moore
Stories (2/0)
Home Too Soon
In my short adult life I've been known as many things. A mistake, a blessing, a compeer, corrival. The love of someone's life, nothing... a beggar, a thrull, half live or partially undead. living off the bits and pieces from the few civilized who chose to spare it. Hunger pangs rock me in an out of sleep, like an angler's line on an empty tarn. "These train carts sleep a lot better when ain't nobody on em". I heard in the distance Another exclaimed as he adjusted himself in recumbency. Homelessness mustn't suit me well I thought, 7 months in and My pride still thwarts my reality. Unfamiliar with the uncertainties each night brings, let alone the encroaching city air; a nightly reminder that i'm not at "home". Wherever home is. A veteran, not gone long enough to be a hero, home before it was okay to be forgotten. Here I sit. Existing In a non essential existence. "Existing"I glanced one eye to see 8bit sand draining from the digit hourglass on the platform display. "This is home for the night." I told myself as The hour neared 3am I found safety in that thought.
By Devin Moore3 years ago in Serve
Home Too Soon
In my short adult life I've been known as many things. A mistake, a blessing, a compeer, corrival. The love of someone's life, nothing... a beggar, a thrull, half live or partially undead. living off the bits and pieces from the few civilized who chose to spare it. Hunger pangs rock me in an out of sleep, like an angler's line on an empty tarn. "These train carts sleep a lot better when ain't nobody on em". I heard in the distance Another exclaimed as he adjusted himself in recumbency. Homelessness mustn't suit me well I thought, 7 months in and My pride still thwarts my reality. Unfamiliar with the uncertainties each night brings, let alone the encroaching city air; a nightly reminder that i'm not at "home". Wherever home is. A veteran, not gone long enough to be a hero, home before it was okay to be forgotten. Here I sit. Existing In a non essential existence. "Existing"I glanced one eye to see 8bit sand draining from the digit hourglass on the platform display. "This is home for the night." I told myself as The hour neared 3am I found safety in that thought.
By Devin Moore3 years ago in Humans