A Murdered Intellectual

Posted: October 16, 2013 in Uncategorized

The window was cracked an inch to let in the springtime air, but with it came the sounds of the city. An engine idled from the foot of the apartments, and as a light turned its life around and moved from top to bottom. A siren, some kind, whined off the horizon. Somewhere there might be someone who can tell you based on the sound of the chirps and yelps and wails to which emergency service it belonged to, but that person did not live in this apartment. With a hand loosely curved around a sweating glass of gin and tonic, the young occupant heaved a sigh from his position on his back on the floor. The ceiling, an off-white textured number with a dim yellow light bulb that liked to slack on the job, was all that was in view. The relative boy turned his head to the side and made sure not to spill his drink as he considered rolling onto his side. But what good would it do? The landlord was still coming up the next day and if he was going to have to be single from now on, he might as well be homeless.

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