short story day one



The overdeveloping sky with its clouds so gloom that it would make one wonder how a skyline could ever be beautiful had something to do with the bleak faces of the onlookers of this event. Or perhaps it was the gruesome fatality that day in which they all somehow partook in. The white bicyclist could not help but wretch out a limit vomit as he saw what happened. The car with the base so loud that it could make Mos Def deaf tried to videotape the oncoming action with their smart phones, but only could get the video of the dashboard after each of them jostled with each while yelling a holy curse to the holy father. All Dave saw was another day in the life of a homeless man with another story that no one would believe because he was a homeless drunk.


Such was the problem with the life that Dave had led. Lots of stories to tell, and yet, not an ear to talk to. Perhaps it was his appearance, or perhaps it was the way he carried himself. Talking to trees probably didn’t help his chances much. He did like the sway they made when he made a convincing argument, and really, who can deny the power of a good sway when you give that huge long argument its final end with a crescendo of a juxtaposition that it would make even the most stubborn person shift their position. Not I, and certainly not Dave.


Dave was wearing a rough brown turncoat likely to have been thrown away by someone much higher up the economic latter than him. You could likely tell that by the holes in the coat, or perhaps it was the huge stain on the left sleeve. If you were to find that fashionable and say the bright yellow stain on a brown coat to be quite the accoutrement to an outfit, to you I say wow you are odd. To everyone else, back to Dave. That turncoat was a smug of shit that was only made worse by the non-matching red and white gloves which had multiple finger holes missing. He wasn’t wearing any pants, but for some reason did have on a pair of Faragamo loafers in excellent condition.


Dave did say that in a generation or two of new carbon spread throughout his body that a pair of fine shoes is all a man needs, although at that point he also had a bed to sleep on and a fridge full of meat and cheese so perhaps he would reconsider on that sentiment. Today, the day he saw this tragic event had been, for all intensive purposes, the best day he had this year.

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