Fiction by Mr.Brown

  • -3
It's raining and there isn't a single patch of blue in the sky. The balcony is green with mold and the cracks in the concrete are filled with mud. The wealthy man sits next to an empty glass and a full tray of breakfast. He looks at the tv set which is older than him and thinks about the bottle of Scotch in his bathroom. He's trying to remember if it's eight years old or twelve. It has already been drank and he has already smashed it against the mirror. Now is not the time to be thinking of such things. His children are spoiled and do not love him. This doesn't bother him nearly as much as the fact that he does not love them. His wife told him to leave, so he did. Now he is with his thoughts and memories. All the sex he turned down while married and all the sex he didn't when he wasn't. He wonders if any of his friends think about him. As he jumps off the balcony and falls through the clouds the last thing he sees before the ground is the sign of the building: The International Plaza. by Mr.Brown
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mr.Brown joined fictionthis on Wednesday 13th of August 2008. This talented author is an active member of the site, has submitted 2 fiction(s) thus far and voted for 2. Show some love and leave your comments and feedback below their fictions.

Worth rating twice.
It would be funny, if this one scores more then the other one.
this is cool
Just combine the scores... no big deal.
Love it!

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