Original Writing

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Harry Diamond

Walking down the lifeless streets, a sullen look took over his unshaven face. He swiftly turned a corner. Almost dropping the pocket watch he was clutching to his chest, his pace quickening as he felt the wind grow stronger, his khaki, green trench coat hugging his thighs with every step. As he neared a rather dilapidated, apartment building, he began to fumble through his pockets; his hand flew deep into the left hand pocket off his thick, brown trousers, he sighed in relief and pulled out a rusty key. He walked up the pathway to the door and stuck his key into the lock; he struggled as the door hinges locked in place. He squeezed through the doorway, fighting the wind as he kicked the door shut behind him. He made his way down a dank, badly lit hallway, stopping in front of a peeling black door; he patted down his, short cut, brown hair and gingerly walked in, almost tripping over a large, tree-like houseplant that sat contently on a red rug. He made his way through the labyrinth of cardboard boxes he had been packing the previous night and into the lime-green kitchen, he opened a box and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey and slowly poured the brown liquid into a dusty tumbler that was set aside on the work surfaces. He gently flicked the glass, causing the alcohol inside to swirl softly. He brought the glass to his face and inhaled greatly, the musty aura filling his lungs; he relaxed enjoying the smell of relief and took a sip. A warm feeling overwhelmed his body and he gave a slight shiver. He placed the tumbler down and took a step away from the dirty kitchen counter and stuck his hand into his chest pocket.

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“Five hours, plenty of time” he sighed briefly. He expeditiously began moving boxes into the empty hallway, the dust lifting from beneath the floor boards causing his throat to emit a hacking noise.

When he was finally finished disassembling the labyrinth, he stood in the door way looking in at an empty space, an abyss that he once called home. All that was left in was an old red rub and a dying house plant.  He took a step back, choking from holding back his tears. He pulled out his key and forced himself to plunge it into the ...

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