The Street, (Late Afternoon)
Fumbling for some matches he fumbled onwards, his fingers caressing the lining of his pockets. A heat that he forgot could actual exist seemed to threaten his existence, a day as hot as this one came at him from a memory of childhood, without anything else to do he searched for somewhere that could sell him some alcohol, a place was easily found and he took his bounty to a deserted park and sat down. Before opening the cheap bottle of shochu he studied the ground, with its twisted grass and crisp packets, squinting, he checked the time, 5:37:43, he smoked a cigarette and stared at the bag the shop assistant had passed to him minutes before, contemplating the drunkenness that it’s contents would take him to.
‘If I spent a decade as a drunk, I wouldn’t have lost too much, I mean what’s better to experience, the contemplation of something or its own actuality?’. 6:06:23 he left the park searching for another outlet.