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Strange Famous · 08-23-2007, 11:34 AM

The good boy and the bad boy were not walking in a wood, but they walked heavily through a covering of dead leaves. To the left, a migraine of traffic shuffled and lurched through the late afternoon; the bicycle couriers weaving in and out of the lumpen buses and creaking black cabs. To right, a coffee shop - American of course; a dark cavern of a pub, a long narrow London boozer already half full; an employment agency that employed only Poles; a cheque cashing place; a single office above full of old ladies who sold sex down the telephone; and on they walked - the good boy and the bad boy. A North wind cut through the calm of the day, sending the dead leaves scurrying like a child's kick from underneath the feet of the bad boy. He smiled to himself, and then frowned again. Dead leaves and city streets... the thing that is life is dying, and the thing that is dead seems to live - electric, gaudy, unhappy and lonely. The bad boy raised his face and saw only frames of people, all hurrying to the same place, all moving in different directions. The bad boy looked across to the good boy, who did not gaze his way, or speak.
"I'm sorry" said the bad boy at last.
The good boy shrugged, looked unhappy, looked unhappier than before. The bad boy quickened his pace as the good boy slowed slightly.
"Always. It was always so" said the good boy, as he reached inside his long old fashioned raincoat.
The bad boy was about ten feet ahead now, head upright, striving, purposeful; never looking back. Moving slowly, but without any hesitation, the good boy levelled his revolver with the middle of the bad boys back, inwardly he shrugged, felt movement to his left, movement away from him, and this was the last thing he knew before everything changed and nothing ever would be the same.

____

feel free to comment. I probably made a lot of spelling mistakes and grammar errors, but I just wrote the first thing I thought of down without thinking about it as I went.

edit - shit, now I read the rest of them everyone will just think I ripped off Tecoyah. oh well.

08-23-2007, 11:34 AM	#7 (permalink)
Strange Famous follower of the child's crusade?	The good boy and the bad boy were not walking in a wood, but they walked heavily through a covering of dead leaves. To the left, a migraine of traffic shuffled and lurched through the late afternoon; the bicycle couriers weaving in and out of the lumpen buses and creaking black cabs. To right, a coffee shop - American of course; a dark cavern of a pub, a long narrow London boozer already half full; an employment agency that employed only Poles; a cheque cashing place; a single office above full of old ladies who sold sex down the telephone; and on they walked - the good boy and the bad boy. A North wind cut through the calm of the day, sending the dead leaves scurrying like a child's kick from underneath the feet of the bad boy. He smiled to himself, and then frowned again. Dead leaves and city streets... the thing that is life is dying, and the thing that is dead seems to live - electric, gaudy, unhappy and lonely. The bad boy raised his face and saw only frames of people, all hurrying to the same place, all moving in different directions. The bad boy looked across to the good boy, who did not gaze his way, or speak. "I'm sorry" said the bad boy at last. The good boy shrugged, looked unhappy, looked unhappier than before. The bad boy quickened his pace as the good boy slowed slightly. "Always. It was always so" said the good boy, as he reached inside his long old fashioned raincoat. The bad boy was about ten feet ahead now, head upright, striving, purposeful; never looking back. Moving slowly, but without any hesitation, the good boy levelled his revolver with the middle of the bad boys back, inwardly he shrugged, felt movement to his left, movement away from him, and this was the last thing he knew before everything changed and nothing ever would be the same. ____ feel free to comment. I probably made a lot of spelling mistakes and grammar errors, but I just wrote the first thing I thought of down without thinking about it as I went. edit - shit, now I read the rest of them everyone will just think I ripped off Tecoyah. oh well. __________________ "Do not tell lies, and do not do what you hate, for all things are plain in the sight of Heaven. For nothing hidden will not become manifest, and nothing covered will remain without being uncovered." The Gospel of Thomas Last edited by Strange Famous; 08-23-2007 at 11:38 AM..