Slithering down the tip, rain gathers on a leaf.
Rush.
A splatter left on the thirsty earth.

A pair of plastic dice hang in the air.
Cigarette smoke lingers in the air with the sounds of people talking, laughing, braying, and every other noise we can make. Of course there's the sounds of the carnival slots, playing their merry-go-round tune with each wager on a button. A fortune gained in a second, lost in hours. hopes and fears culminating in the moment of release, when the dice leave your hand. Fear of the unknown, just as powerful as the fear of knowing. And in there a rush of chemicals. Loss of self, release of social bonds, freedom. Found around, but never without chance.

A character of granite,

sculpted and unmoving.

Hard shell,

giving hell

to mind and thought.

His perfection screams,

til the eyes split.

Nevermore.

Polished hair,

chiseled teeth,

shoulders to carry boulders,

hands of sand paper,

and a gentle smile.