There were five of them in the row of townhouses, and underneath the sheen of public normalcy and personal success lived the gaping damage within. and the rain quietly stopped
The unit sat empty for four months. The windows remained dark and lifeless, much like they did when Braden lived in those rooms. Everything remained as he’d left it. The furnishings and accessories were all there, it was all for sale, and it was better that way. Better to say goodbye to all of the old belongings, the old way of living. He was in a new life now. A life where there was no use for chrome and stainless steel. A life where there was warmth and light. He would not decorate his new home to reflect the month of November.
There were five of them in the row of townhouses, and underneath the sheen of public normalcy and personal success lived the gaping damage within. two houses
No one would take note of the orderly row of townhouses which had sprung out of fallow fields of urban blight, disrespect and hopelessness. Where once there were working-class homes and yards and porches, there came the demolition machines, and years, if not decades, of emptiness. Lots plowed under by the city, barely leveled so that one could still make out the outline of the house, and the sinking earth where once stood foundation and cellar. In these times, grasses and wildflowers grew in season, inviting butterflies and birds to alight there. There were grasses and buttercups and dandelions.
There were five of them in the row of townhouses, and underneath the sheen of public normalcy and personal success lived the gaping damage within. Into the wonder
Ben was tired of feeling emotionally injured. Things never seemed to work out. If there was hope, it always seemed dashed in the end, usually with some bizarre twist. Like an episode of The Twilight Zone, complete with Rod Serling narration, Ben watched his life unfold with a sense of fascination and horror.
There were five of them in the row of townhouses, and underneath the sheen of public normalcy and personal success lived the gaping damage within. if I was the one you chose
For Marcus, nothing seemed to matter anymore. He was listless and indecisive and unsure. From outside glances, his life looked perfect, ideal. To Marcus, it was far from that. His life had become complicated and mundane. His work, no longer a source of stimulation or interest, slipped into neutral. He coasted on his own knowledge equity, relying on his good relationships with vendors and customers. He lived in the ether, floating from meeting to meeting, not quite in a fog, but disillusioned in a cloud of his own despair.
