HE WAS PURE| JOSHLER

början

the start

running? running. indeed, josh was running. not after anything. neither did he get tracked down or chased by a beast, whose only instinct was to hunt and kill their prey mercilessly. no, josh was sprinting in case these things became reality.

the brisk breath of spring morning bit coldly along his cherry tainted cheeks all the way to his ears. the only sound being able to catch in the early tangerine splattered morning was the razzles of leaves who drowned sorrowfully in his own desperate catching of breath, adding the faint clapping of running shoes on concrete which was however out of earshot. stopping for oxygen, josh realised soon enough where his feet had taken him. he let out a relaxed huff signaling to himself that he did well today. this was very much needed for the tattooed muscular man, he needed to stay in the shape he, oh so hard fought for to keep having. you see, joshua dun was a sheriff. not particularly a atrociously lousy one who fought over donuts more than crimes like the other 'policemen' he's seen in his career, oh no. he was a high rank, leader of his station. the dreadful sentence he often spoke that made fresh meat at the police school shiver down to the ultimate core with respect for the tall man, was a thing he was secretly amused by. he was sheriff at the NYPD station.

the toned arm coated with a galaxy with purple and blue hues at the shoulder, who then translated into a tall musky tree at his forearm; reached over with lack of energy to open the door into his heftily big apartment. there was not plenteous of grass feeding off of the fog who was slowly turning into droplets on the ground, neither was there heaps of green trees and bushes with odd types of berries and fruits. neither did Josh expect it, to say the least.

the apartment in the middle of new york was, as his little sister called it: 'fancy as hell'.
there was disgustingly big windows that could be mistaken as walls, giving the owner of the household a great view of the sunrise. it was fortunate that an early bird like josh became the lucky one who won the bidding. he plopped down on the huge white sofa right in time before the hairy legs gave up on his own body. josh happily accompanied them and laid down with a huff, desperate to focus on some other thing than his burning thighs. he reached forward but ended up with grunt, indicating he forgot the remote on the kitchen island. the sweaty man rose from his warm comfortable seat and shifted slackly over to the marble-covered table. his hands burning like an inferno from the difference of temperature, trying to find the remote while his mocha coloured eyes were glued stuck to the tv. instead of grabbing the hard plastic box with buttons, his veiny hands found another thing fastened to the kitchen island. he instantly whipped his head around to observe the thin paper with a piece of tape stuck to it in his fingers.

right after his eyes scanned the unquestionable recognisable handwritten letters, his very glass clear vision became very quickly blurry like the range of view wasn't even a foot. the overwhelming feeling of everything crashing down in front of your eyes with just the touch of a pen on a paper became too much. the once calm man with legs bearable to walk with turned into a soon sobbing mess with lower half fragile like flowers. the breathing was raspy and quick, he couldn't breathe. even if josh wanted to. he wasn't proficient when it came to panic attacks. what was he supposed to do? it hasn't happened in a long time.

josh's pathetic attempt to keep standing straight failed and he sloppily fell harsh on his knees, to ignore the flaming pain pulsating at them and crumple the paper in his hand.
how could this happen? josh didn't know the answer, he only knew that he was in grave danger.
the handwritten letter with gracious syllables and vowels was thrown somewhere harshly, the man who read it couldn't bear with seeing it again.

Missed me? - T