I'm an urban nomad, who stalks artistically and writes nonsense.
Chapter 1. Guitar and death. The air was humid and sour as she made her way down the street, it was may 25th, the date meant nothing special to her but she felt like it should.
Chapter 2. Sight 1. When she woke up he was gone, not meaning he's never coming back, just that he was simply not there.
1. He showed her to his room, it was simple and small, shabby but seemingly clean. There was nothing else apart from a single bed, and oddly, a bowl full of shattered glass.
1. He asked no more, they listened to the rustling sounds of moving fabric and tapping rain, the air was thick with moisture.
1. She sat alone, her white hair laying gently on her arms, she felt her breath on her knees as she stared, as if unable to focus on something too distant.