The rain pelted the man mercilessly, though only a lazy downpour its weight was unrelenting. HIs curly brown hair matted and wet now hung down his face as he looked at the traffic below. Standing on the rail of his balcony his mind touched a feeling between hope and despair. Headlights painted patterns on the oil-slickend runoff in the gutters of the road it was an inviting sight to him.
On the parapet of life and death decision he absently swayed in the thick stormy winds his white satin shirt clinging to his fit chiseled body, down there lay a hope of finality yet he struggled to bring himself the left step into oblivion. Behind him on the bed in his apartment room pale skin rose and fell, the last evenings distraction he couldn't remember her name, not that he would need it to call his driver to a one way trip away.
He forbid himself connections, holding everyone at arms length with physical connection came ammusement and respite but even on the balcony now, dozens of people unknowingly trespassing below a beautiful woman in his bed, he was alone in the world.
Why had he become like this, no strong father figure?, Absentee parents?. The answer eluded him as the wind swayed him toward the egde, the ground below filling his vision before an updraft righted him again. This was something fun he supposed, Standing on lifes edge at the whim of the storm winds a little adrenanline to fule his mind.
He looked over his shoulder at the naked pale skinned woman in his bed, It wasnt her fault she hadn't held his interest a hundred women before her had been the same, pretty and talkative, easily seduced with a display of wealth and charm. In the end they where all not much more then toys for a child. They where all so concerned with the trivialitys of life money, work, whos fucking who? Not that any of it realy mattered in the longrun.
He supposed he should have kids. He was old enough and successful he should leave a few little ones in his wake. Mirthlessly he smiled to himself, he propably already had kids, some poor young woman cursing his name if she even remembered it.
No what he sought was other then connections though he had none. He sought a definitive end, or a new begining. In this world new beginings are hard to make, tied to the old by one thing of another.
ONe of my hobbies is writing, Critisim is welcome
A car splashed past a pedestrian who ranted irrately at the uncaring tail lights of the trespasser. Why was that mans coat so important to him he wondered and why did he need to yell at a car long past.
He turned and looked again into his room, his back to the void. Tommorrow he thought he would find a new distraction, and probobly end up out here again. He didn't know why he faced the same thing day in day out that bored him so much, the melencholy of life. He sighed to himself and
decided to get some sleep.
A strong gust found his footing lacking and he was in the void then in freefall. His mind was not paniced an uneasy feeling filled his seemingly weightless form. He understood now why he did this every day. The lonelyness and bordom was proof he existed, and he wanted to continue existing.
A jarring pain filled him as he hit the pavment he had so longingly staired at so many times, It was an unwelcome greeting and as red came into the sides of his vision, followed by black he absently noticed his last observation and had his last thought.
"The rain has stopped"