Tom Moses

My mind is a wreck.  I haven’t slept in two days, and not even the boredom of a cross country flight was enough to lull me.  I hear Seattle is a nice place, I think I’ve been there a few times in my life, but at the moment I’m not too sure on much beyond the present.

Frenchie arranged for everything, as usual he’s the one friend I can count on that will never lose his level head, always watching out for me.  Sometimes I’m not sure how he does it, other times I don’t bother to ask, but the two of us are like that.  Either one will do anything for the other at the drop of a hat, we’ve saved each other countless times and continue to do so everyday.

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He reached over and felt the bracelets that gripped his arms to the bars he could only feel. His eyes still didn’t work, not that they didn’t open, but he heard the doctors speak about contusions, brain trauma, and partial blindness. Jules, coughed and it startled the doctors. A nurse rushed to his side and starting asking questions a mile a minute, but he could only barely hear her.

“Stop,” he pushed a struggling voice passed his lips.

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It is a starless night, not unlike many winter nights in this city. The clouds pass over the sky, keeping even the moon hidden from sight. Only the dirty yellow that emanates from the rusting posts that curve over the sidewalks provide any light of use.

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