Post by lucien on Sept 18, 2010 17:32:03 GMT -5
I think I'm losing it
I might be losing it
I just might lose
Am I losing my mind?
And I'm so confused
And I don't know what to do
And I need a clue before i run out of time
Am I losing it?
Am I losing it?
I think I'm losing
I'm losing my mind
Ah, New Orleans during the day. The acrid smell of exhaust floated on the wind, bringing with it evidence of the river nearby. Shadows clung to each corner that lined the worn blacktop, gliding along with each pedestrian gracing the sidewalk with their hurried presence. The soft swishing of taxicabs passing by, sometimes interrupted with the obnoxious bleat of a horn, belted out its natural song…
And it was all one particular pedestrian could do not to throw himself head first into traffic.
“Hey, buddy, move it!” A voice yelled from somewhere behind him, followed by the loud honk of a car horn. Ah, the lovely sounds of the city. “Move it, or I’m gonna run you down!”
Turning his head to look at the owner of the very large truck currently pointing itself at his body- standing in the middle of the road as it was, so that its owner could watch the sun succumb to the army of shadows over the high, arching buildings- he could only shake his head sadly. As the truck inched itself forward, he took a few steps toward the sidewalk opposite him, slipping his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, and watched as the vehicle slowly trudged down the almost completely empty road.
…Only to find all six of its tires spontaneously bursting to leave the cab and cargo flying down the road, to crash into an empty dumpster.
Had he just pulled out his off duty piece and shot a truck full of holes? No, definitely not! Accidents were just notorious for happening, and Karma was just an ice cold bitch on a good day. Expect the unexpected: that was his motto.
As well as ‘what the HELL did I do to deserve this’, but he really wasn’t going to dwell on that one. The last time he fell into that train of thought, he’d woken up next to two very strange women, an array of empty bottles, a bathtub full of chocolate pudding and four angry bookies looking for their cut.
Self pity was for the sound of mind, after all. Anyone else was just in danger of going to Vegas and blowing the rent on chicken fights.
He didn’t even want to think about it.
Blinking owlishly, Griffin turned his head to look at the street around him, his heart doing a funny ‘OH SNAP’ dance in his chest, while his head proceeded to pound the crap out of himself.
Alright, so here was the question of the day:
Where the fuck was he and how did he get there?
At the frightened gasp from an elderly woman in front of him, he jerked his head down and muttered a curse, shoving the small gun clasped in his hand into the holster beneath his jacket. Keeping his face pointed at the ground, his teeth clenched and his hands shoved into his pockets, he made a beeline for the first open, anonymous space that he could find.
Cue the fifth dark alley that he’d had to hide in this week, and the overlaying smell of rotting garbage. Oh joy.
Letting his forehead rest in his hand, he sighed. The last thing he remembered was sitting in his kitchen, watching the highlights from last night’s game and munching on some stale nachos. Rubbing at his eyes, he did his best to force the memories to resurface, but only ended up with one helluva headache for his troubles. Spotting a bar sign somewhere down the street, he lurched through the front doors. ‘Silver Bullet Bar and Grill,’ eh? Definitely not his usual haunt, but man, he just needed to sit down and figure things out. He practically left burn marks on the floor, in his effort to hightail it to the nearest corner booth.
Jesus…how in all that was holy did he wind up downtown, almost a twenty minute walk from his apartment? And HOLDING a goddamn GUN? God, if this wasn’t a sure sign of an impending mental breakdown, he didn’t know what was.
Well, at least he'd be going to the crazy house with the knowledge that he'd be medicated up to his eyeballs. Maybe he'd actually get some goddamn sleep.
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