I paced back in forth in front of my small cracked and clouded mirror, muttering silently to myself. I flinched at every noise that occurred in my underground base. The worry that something is out to get me, constantly keeps me paranoid and alert.
I slammed my callused hands down onto the sink, and stared at my reflection. I had long greasy black hair, and tired blue eyes. My cheeks were gaunt with hunger, and the bags under my eyes were dark. I don't even recognize myself anymore.
I turned on the old faucet, and waited as the pressure built up enough to create a solid stream of water. I splashed my face, looked up once more, and fell back when nothing had improved. I looked down at my bare feet covered in soot and grime, at my sack cloth pants and rope belt, and at my barely there shirt, and I sighed in disappointment. I heard my friend call my name from down the hall.
I looked at the mirror and smiled. I looked at my perfect white teeth. My teeth were an oddity, being a beggar.
I started to laugh a full and infectious laugh, as I walked down the dark stone hallway; leaving behind only an echo and a single dripping sink.
YOU ARE READING
The Watchman
RomanceNicholas Finley (Finn) Penn, that was a name that was forgotten. Finn grew up wealthy. He was known by the whole of London, and then suddenly he wasn't. It was as if the day Finn ran away was also the day he stopped existing. No one knew why he ran...
