SS 1

Standing on the roof, alone, he took the gun placed on the wall confront of him. The wind blew through the chamber and once again he smelled the gunpowder. Unsure of what to do he slid a cigarette out of his container, lighting it and inhaling. Behind him, his tea cup rattled violently with its saucer, the wind was picking up. He drew his coat tighter, stood in the silence and waited. He sat down the roof staining his pants but sheltering him from the wind. The wind was now so cold he couldn’t draw breathe. Looking down he noticed the blood stain on his shirt was getting larger. He whispered “well i’ll be damned”. Blood roared in his ears. Reaching into his coat he pulled a picture out and smiled.

food, and fashion. Some of it mine some of it other

peoples but hopefully all cool.