As my fingers press onto the strings...
Sometimes The Kitchen Will Fight Back
Julian stood bare-foot in the blue and white kitchen, the tiles chilling his toes. His shaggy black hair was matted down with sweat. he braced himself with a stiff are gripping the counter as he downed a cup of water. he looked over at the small fren on the round wooden table that was bathing in the sunlight seeping through the half-drawn windows. the back of his head was pounding and stung as if there were arrows through his skull. this was nowhere near the first time he had fallen while skateboarding, but this particular spill had left him a little more brused and bloody than usual. he had been quite surprised that his head didn't crack open on such an impact with the curb in front of the local elementary school. at least officer Dave hadn't been patrolling that day. he had it out for Julian and he knew it all too well.
Ice...that's all he needed. A bag of ice and perhaps some tylenol. he turned away from the sink now stained with the blood that had finally stopped gushing from his elbow. he took a couple of steps tward the fridge when he suddenly felt completely nauseated. he grabbed his stomach and tried to prepare himself to hold down any vomit that might try to arise. he began to breathe heavily and became dizzy. he swallowed hard, still fighting his stomach that threatened to become ill. his eyes crossed as the ceiling and the floor had a chinese fire drill. he lost all sense of direction as his body collided with the pure white lenolium bringing forth a loud clatter. everything went black.
~October ♣ ♥ ♠