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Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1508129
A story of Living on the Streets in Winter.
A pair of rugged steel toed boots clank across the iced slicked sidewalks. Be it rain, snow or sleet John had hated the winter since he was a child, maybe it was because the best Christmas gift he ever got was his father beating him with a stick, "If you wanna get anywhere in life you gotta be tough, kid" his father would slur before passing out on the cigarette burned couch; these were the fond memories of his childhood, his mother was a cheap prostitute and his father\ was an abusive drunk, lovely, just lovely, he could say he's not like his father. Cat's roamed the streets where he "lived", he heard their mewing as they dug through the garbages. Down below his feet a man hole lay, he lifted off the top and glanced around before slipping down below the streets into a maze of fecal matter and garbage. Everything in these sewers was either dead or dying,so in essence he felt safe and in control as he rattled along beside the river of crap. For light he clutched a dying flashlight, he loved to see how far he could go before he was plunged into darkness. Gnawing of rats nearby stopped as the sewer rats scurried away from the sound of his clanking boots. Holding his flashlight as it flickered off he leaned against the damp wall, he smiled as he snapped in a new battery and chucked the dead one into the horrorfying liquid, it gave a satisfying splash as it landed in the water. IT was time to go, the last he wanted was for someone to trap him in the sewer.
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