December 2010
Short Story. What do you think?
The Millionare
He walked. On the streets he once believed he owned, he walked, lost and desolate. All he saw were the things he had, all his possessions. He walked the empty streets, and wished for a chance to do it again. A man walked next to him, tall, an imposing figure compared to the other crumpled, defeated silhouette.
“Do you wish to say something, Alan...
So so.
honesty of obsession, I’ll never know why
Each time I fall, get back up again
Born of ashes, but again I try
falling forward, three steps back
moving farther only to cry
stepping, moving, pleading, off track
