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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1620466-Spring-cleaning
Rated: 13+ · Sample · Gay/Lesbian · #1620466
Intro to a story I hope to write. - Would like to know if it works so far.
The clock struck three. I lay there, eyes wide open. My mind recalled every detail of the night. Every touch, every breath. It was all so perfect. But how, how did something so passionate, something I had longed for for so long, turn out so wrong?. How did I go from holding my lover’s lust filled body to their cold, broken corpse?  It didn’t bear thinking about. At least for now anyway. In a brief attempt at distraction I found myself counting the stars out of my window. It was easy, now that the curtains that once kept me from looking out lay in a heap on the floor, torn and blood stained.
         It didn’t work. Slowly, I sat up. My forehead found it’s way into my shaking palms. With my eyes now fixated on the floor I found my mind wandering again. Retracing my footsteps. Pinpointing exactly what went wrong. I let it. I wanted to know. Perhaps then I could put it from my mind. If only life was that simple. That black and white.
         Perhaps I should start from the beginning. The very beginning. At least, the beginning that’s after my birth but before this-well, you know what I mean.
         It was a Saturday morning. Your average Saturday, full of lay ins and late nights. I chose the former to begin with, waking up at about. . .nine twenty-ish? Yes, believe it or not this was late for me since I was used to waking at what felt like the crack of dawn for my job. What is my job? I’ll explain later.
         Slowly bringing myself to crawl out from my cocoon of bed sheets and in turn, out of bed, I made my way across the hall to the bathroom to have my morning shower. Catching a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror as I passed it I stopped to take a look at the damage I had caused to my body over the months.  Starting with my hair, which was currently a mix of auburn red and hazel brown, I moved down to my face. My poor, ageing face. Ok, so I was exaggerating a little bit but it really wasn’t the best it could be. Although still rather well defined in terms of cheek and chin, heavy bags had formed under my eyes, no doubt due to the little sleep I had with my new job and the strain it put me under.
         Then came my body in all it’s middle aged glory. My once proud, teenage six pack was slowly forming into a keg. 
         
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