Fierce Hampton’s eyes snapped open, and he found himself in a place he knew too well, an abandoned grove hidden away in the cusp at the local park, his back laying against the cold dirt. It appeared to be midmorning, and he sat up, groggy and aching. It only took a minute of sitting before his strength returned to him, and he jumped up, hoping he didn’t lose too much time this time around.
He strutted out of the cusp onto the field, and looked around at those predisposed to pass time idly on a weekday going about their business, walking their dogs, slowly riding their bikes across sidewalks, sitting at park benches with their toddlers in strollers napping nearby. Fierce walked over to a trashcan and rummaged around until he found a newspaper, and saw that it was still the same day, which he was thankful for. Some injuries had left him vanished for a week at a time, which made him feel that he was missing something vital.
It was not that Fierce sought out injury, it’s just that he was not very careful. He was a bit of a thrill-seeker, and was greatly interested in the limits that he could push himself when he was technically invincible. So, he occasionally do something foolhardy that caused him to tumble off a skyscraper, or get hit by a train, or any number of life-ending instances that he just…woke up from some time later. This fact alone led him to continue his near-suicidal behavior.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment