Sunday, February 20, 2011
In his stomach was an acidic lather as he peered through the trembling bay from the cold. The far side of the mudded alley in which he stooped showcased the object of his greying curiosity. Naked behind a bricked in, ripply window she treated her wounded skin, dabbing at splotches and sores with what he tried to imagine was a cool, wet rag. The stone walls which kept the wretched voyeur from her were crumbling in the undying winter, weakening by the windgust. He wavered with doubt and hunger in the brine fog as he considered the scene. He coughed and choked then swallowed down the pulpy froth in his throat. Bloody mucous bubbled in his nasal cavity incessantly as he corroded slowly in the diffuse phosgene mist, and as purine tears culminated in the folds of his skin he shuffled away with a pule to seek quarter from the burning air.