Like Water

He stirs from his slumber, dropping the weight of his body to graze the aging carpet below him. Cool air bombards his bare skin as he spreads a thick layer of cotton across his shoulders, wrapping either side against his chest, burying his thin hands deep into the pockets as he lets out a low, unsettling sigh. "The snow has turned gray today." he observes with a wrinkle of his pointed nose. Uncomfortably, he shifts from left foot to right and sighs again. His soft blue eyes swing about the barren room like a wrecking ball, aimlessly tossing its mass in every direction. His gaze settles on wooden pipe that had seen many generations of men too distraught to resist another warm inhale. He looks past it and crawls back into the depressing comfort of his bed, folding layers of sheets and blankets against his shivering body. Feeling his eyelids pour over his pupils like a liquid screen dimming the intimidatingly white walls to a safe black, he sighs once more and surrenders his conscious mind to dreams that might soothe him.

god i hate children.