Tuesday, February 28, 2006

comic #145


The boy, still with a black box about 1 meter in length went around the the path from the bridge past a large building on to a carpark. He stepped in front off a couple of cars who had to Jump on their brakes to keep from hitting him. They screamend abuse at him but He still payed no attention.
When he got to the end of the parking lot he went down a wooden pear of steps which cut under neath a much larger bridge.Unlike the last, this one had a main road leading across it.
As he walked in silence a homeless person lying on an old mattress on the dirt ground. It had started to rot from the water seeping into it and it gave a musty odour. This may have come from the old man, but the boy could not tell.
The old man looked up with rhumy eyes, yellowed with age and red from a life spent in a constant spiral of drunkenness and hang overs. He drowned his reality with spirits. But as ever, they fled him after a short stay.
The boy stopped, as if running into a brick wall for the first time, and being shocked it hurt.
he said to the old man
"Hand me them." quite simply and slowly, his pitched never changed.
the old man winced at him,
"whaat?Kid, what are you?"
The boy slowly turned his head, moving nothing but his kneck to look at the old man,
"hand Them to me, you have suffered them to long."
he reached out with his hand. The old man, caught off balance by the turn of events reached out as well.As he reached forwards,

--to be continued

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