Sounds of the City – Dead Deer

Sounds of the City

Rich golden rays dribbled noiselessly, perhaps, through the dappled canopy. Birdsong rippled from above. The August sun hung briefly low. The city awakens, yet it be but four o’clock.

Mid-air shimmers, mid-air shimmers, across the park and down through the city. A distant aeroplane hovers. The glint of the sun reflecting on the sharp diamonds, pointing up, pointing up, and pointing out their own importance. Today they rest. It is Sunday.

Disgruntled and dishevelled Emily pulls away from the sheets and they tumble to the floor. One eye half open a hand flails and encounters half a tab. Still face down she thrusts it in her mouth and lights up. Another day begins. She’s gonna start again.

Clinks and mild crashes as she stumbles across the bedroom, the glass detritus of too many nights strewn all around. She slumps onto the toilet. She groans as she pisses. She forgot to bring her fags. She holds her head and sighs. A long and loud sigh, with the disillusionment of one hundred billion dead souls behind it.

In the kitchen she gulps half a tumbler of vodka. The calming rush allows her to reach for the kettle. Cigarette, coffee, clothes. Now Emily is ready to face the sounds of a sleepy city, for Emily, Sunday is her day. Emily has a job to do.

Today I wrote  between 23:35 and 23:45. I was prompted by an idea here.

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