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|ACROSS THE CHESSBOARD > east london docks > seven devils all around you|
|Posted by: isaac irving Aug 15 2015, 08:01 PM|
At two in the morning there isn’t much light on the Docks. It was a place he often took to when he felt troubled and at that point in time, Dominic’s situation was very troubling. Isaac was sat underneath the solitary lamp, the soft orange light on the crumpled page in his hand as he tried to continue the drawing. It all looked skewed now; he regretted the anger that made him want to throw it out. It was a simple portrait, a face that he knew too well. The angles that he got lost in, the eyes...
Isaac Irving chose to believe he didn’t have a problem when it came to Dominic Brooks. And that was the story he would stick to.
It wasn’t that he felt ashamed. Well, perhaps a little...
He sighed as he tried to smooth the page out. A drop of water landed on it, right on the eye, blurring the detailing. Isaac closed his eyes. It was too late to go to the hospital, way after visiting hours. He couldn’t live there, either, he had a life without Dominic. But it didn’t seem like a life now, without dropping in on him at his flat and exchanging his vodka for water, waking up to a moustache in sharpie or something else absolutely ridiculous. They had something special, a friendship that Isaac never had... but now even that was gone, leaving behind hurtful words. Or lack thereof, as recently Dominic has chosen to stop talking to him. Whenever Isaac would visit, he would fall silent and they would sit there for a while before Isaac would finally give up.
He lit up a cigarette.
I'm lucky if I ever see the light of day again My skin is choking me, my feeble walls are closing in This cell is filled with scholars easing me, they're teasing me They told me so I didn't know the fall would be this easy
|Posted by: luca risi Aug 22 2015, 03:17 AM|
There was a special sweater that sat at the back of Luca's closet. It remained there, tucked away safely, until particular nights. Its shoulders and arms are worn thin from age. The once dark grey had become sun bleaches on the shoulders and across the arms. The cuffs of the sweater and stained with spray paint too. Holes are common on the cuffs and on the inside pockets. With a threadbare sitting in the back of Luca’s closet it would be logical to throw it out and get a new one. But Luca would never give it up. This sweater was his only tangible connection with living on the streets.
Sure he used to have friends in certain areas but most move on. Faces come and go, no one really stayed too long to know another and when they did they would lose that much easier. They faded further away into the brickwork of the city. Luca had pulled this sweater out from the depths of his closet because he still needed it. The speckle of spray paint were his only true connection back to the art that he leaves on walls and corners and with the people that hunger, disease, frostbite and drugs took.
This time he had ventured toward the dock. With one place in mind. When he was done, Luca stared back at the mural with the huge letters SEE ME NOW spelled out around the fresh white halo of a man’s face sprayed in oranges and blues. He didn’t take the time to critique or marvel. This was therapy, this was making sure that people saw what they usually neglected to see. A man’s broke face. A face that would watch them back as they moved through their daily lives. Luca stepped back, pulled his hood over his face, and dumped his cans in the recycling before he left.
Luca had his hands stuffed deep into his hole ridden pockets and kept the pace fast as he braced himself to the sudden awareness of such a late hour. As he flits down the stairs Luca saw a flicker of flame before he noticed the user. Like a moth that collected around the streetlight above he moved closer. Luca stopped close to the other person and took a position by his side. Both idle underneath of the streetlamp.
"Two o'clock is probably the loneliest of times." Luca said out loud. He was not sure why he stopped, but it felt like the right thing to do. Perhaps someone had been guiding him at that moment. "Mind if I sit with you?" Luca asked.
Sometimes you've got to bleed to know, That you're alive and have a soul, But it takes someone to come around to show you how. The tear in my heart, I'm alive-----