There is no part of the story. There's no where to be or to go or to think alone. There is no plot, there is no happy ending. There is nothing. And as the day ends on a mountain or roof top there is no one. There is no one in that house reading this story as the band plays in their ears. There is no one. There is no heart beat there is only a lifeless body hanging off a balcony. A rat sniffing his toes and the blank expression of a pale boy. But there is nobody there. There is no animal until the other end arrives. Till the companion arrives and he has to kick down the boy's white door in the suburbs.
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Trains and Torn Cloth
Ficción GeneralAfter his boyfriend kills himself Ian at the age of 19 disappears off the grid. He finds self destruction and who and what he wants to be in the process.
