Memory
Cold, thin beams of night take care of your face -
they glance off your bones, skin white as the moon.
I ask if you might remember this place
in twenty years' time; you say that's too soon.
Hard Boiled - 2019 Rewrite
Handful of sweets like teeth launched straight into his open mouth makes you wince: head flipped back - trilby glued on - and all over in no time. Back to the broken nose you first saw; and the glare. Looking around won't help - how nerves work is his living. His thoughts aren't many but they're stark and made for this. Have to hope something happens out of a dream: He loses interest and leaves. Close your eyes like life won't end.
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