Crisp, clean, cool air seeps over the rooftops and through the streets. Into the stale air of the sidewalk, it creates a channel. He can feel the edge of the warm atmosphere colliding with the fall ether. Sunlight hasn't reached this corner of the world, yet. It was dark but the street lamps glowed an orange hue, lighting his doorway. He sipped on the edge of a cigarette, knees bent, sitting on the cold slab of the concrete. It proved unsatisfying and yet peaceful. He let his mind wander about empty windows in the vicinity. There were still strangers walking about town, stumbling home, no doubt. The building before him obscured his view of the lustrous green mountain that would soon be kissed by the rays of the morning. The picturesque view would have been magnificent. He made an anxious, bored type noise and egged himself to move. He jumped up with spry and quickly regained his slower composure. With his thumb and middle finger, he extinguished the flame and flicked it towards the pine green canister. Clever use of the city to empty his butts on a daily basis, not before several vagabonds dipped their hands in to salvage the remains of his habit. The container was a recycling program that may never become fruition, as it was never full nor returned to the center to be made into other things. The doors to his apartment vestibule were left unlocked as he was close by. He returned to his apartment, checking his left wrist for the time, frowning. He had been calculating his next move before it proved to be cumbersome so, the couch became his lounge for a number of minutes. He scrolled endlessly, searching for some reverence from his melancholy and passing time until his anxiety pushed him off the couch and into the zone to work.
His hand moved the stiff curtain behind him, allowing a flicker of light to pierce over his stomach. He let it fall back into place before raising himself to seated. He ran his hands over the sides of his hair, quickly, trying to psyche himself for the day. He brushed his teeth with vigor, smushing the bristles down far enough to remain when he finished. Dressing took time as he valued his appearance, though it was never obvious. He walked himself to the bus stop, taking drags from his pen, feeling more relaxed and disconnected every hit. He positioned his earbuds and hit play, engulfing himself in his own world, separate from the movie he watched through his eyelids. Sunlight had begun to heat the air around town and he felt it in spurts as the rays darted between buildings. Riding up the hill was peaceful, smelling the earth through the metallic walls of the bus, the trees shaded the warmth but, he began to sweat. He closed his eyes momentarily, sucking in the feeling of nostalgia. He remembered brief moments of solitude paired with the experience of nature, so long ago. Opening his eyes, it was still dim but his surroundings were visible. He checked his backpack for his glasses, frowning until he found them in an obscure pocket. He let out an audible sigh of relief that ended with a cough. The muggy air was harsh on his damaged lungs and he cleared his throat in response. His back was arched, slouched as far down as he could be, trying subconsciously to disappear into the uncomfortable seat. He plucked at his shirt, smoothing it out over his long thighs. His phone rang and he let it go to voicemail, enjoying the loud music in his eardrums and conscientious of the passenger's collected quietness that surrounded him on the bus. The ride was just long enough to reset his mind before he would return to his desk illuminated by his music and forced tapping on the keyboard. Another deep breath was sucked into his lungs through his nose, sputtering slightly. The dark was cut with light from the peaking sun popping over the top of the mountain causing him to shield his eyes with sunglasses. He smiled, feeling the effects of the weather and his pen settling him into a warm purr from his deep baritone hum of appreciation.
His hand moved the stiff curtain behind him, allowing a flicker of light to pierce over his stomach. He let it fall back into place before raising himself to seated. He ran his hands over the sides of his hair, quickly, trying to psyche himself for the day. He brushed his teeth with vigor, smushing the bristles down far enough to remain when he finished. Dressing took time as he valued his appearance, though it was never obvious. He walked himself to the bus stop, taking drags from his pen, feeling more relaxed and disconnected every hit. He positioned his earbuds and hit play, engulfing himself in his own world, separate from the movie he watched through his eyelids. Sunlight had begun to heat the air around town and he felt it in spurts as the rays darted between buildings. Riding up the hill was peaceful, smelling the earth through the metallic walls of the bus, the trees shaded the warmth but, he began to sweat. He closed his eyes momentarily, sucking in the feeling of nostalgia. He remembered brief moments of solitude paired with the experience of nature, so long ago. Opening his eyes, it was still dim but his surroundings were visible. He checked his backpack for his glasses, frowning until he found them in an obscure pocket. He let out an audible sigh of relief that ended with a cough. The muggy air was harsh on his damaged lungs and he cleared his throat in response. His back was arched, slouched as far down as he could be, trying subconsciously to disappear into the uncomfortable seat. He plucked at his shirt, smoothing it out over his long thighs. His phone rang and he let it go to voicemail, enjoying the loud music in his eardrums and conscientious of the passenger's collected quietness that surrounded him on the bus. The ride was just long enough to reset his mind before he would return to his desk illuminated by his music and forced tapping on the keyboard. Another deep breath was sucked into his lungs through his nose, sputtering slightly. The dark was cut with light from the peaking sun popping over the top of the mountain causing him to shield his eyes with sunglasses. He smiled, feeling the effects of the weather and his pen settling him into a warm purr from his deep baritone hum of appreciation.
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