The man is in pain. It’s no joke. The pain is all too real. He sits. His seat is a blanket in the middle of a street. Sometimes the seat is in somebody’s house. Things are iffy for him now. Things, events, are not to be trusted. He feels that they have done him enough damage. He doesn’t feel like getting more on top of every other type of damage. What more can he lose? Hasn’t he lost enough already? He sits and he sleeps. Food doesn’t exist for him anymore. Nothing exists except whatever eases, or pretends to ease, the pain.
Posts Tagged ‘man in pain’