Untitled story (part 2) A fitting end

(Well one of my readers has made an attempt at finishing the untitled story, strangely enough its exactly how i imagined it turning out. Well... So here is Luke Davidson's attempt at an ending)

He reached for a razor blade near the sink. Tonight he would end the pain. No longer would he let people into his heart only to have them treat it like yet another disposable item in this fast food world. Only the razor blade wasn't there.

'Where had it gone?' he asked himself. Standing up, he decided he must have left it in the kitchen. He trudged down the lonely, dark hallway towards the kitchen. And then he heard it. Laughter.

Where was it coming from? Who was laughing at him now? Turning around, he saw a faint glow coming from the living room. Like a moth to flame he moved towards the room.

The noise had come from the TV. On it, he saw real people like himself, daring to open themselves up completely. Daring to be proud of who they were. Daring to live. And he knew what he must do. He must live. He must live his life to the full. A life of passion, a life of love, a life of hope. And he had this tv show, Big Brother, to thank for it.

God bless whoever thought Big Brother was a good idea.

(FYI 50th post, now does luke feel special)


Till next we meet,
Paul

Untitled story (part 2 an unfitting end)

Im not going to finish this story, and its your fault! You did it to me, and you should be ashamed. Apart from danny and james i heard nothing from anyone about it. So its simply not going to be finished now, why should i put the effort in. Admittedly it was shitty and quite predictable, but hey guess what you didn't see this coming as an ending so you can shove it up your ass.

Till next we meet,
Paul

Untitled story (part 1)

The man stopped in his tracks; once again he had lowered his barriers and opened his heart to the world, only to have it crushed with disappointment by those he trusted. He felt ashamed that he had deceived himself, he knew very well that’s this would happen as it often did, but he became blinded by the euphoric notion that it could be different this time, this time they had changed.

He lowered his phone from his ear and placed it on the counter. He removed his coat and laid it on the chair to his right closest to the door, he would have no use for it tonight. He turned on his heels very slowly and moved towards his bathroom.

The man was not old, yet one could no longer call him young. From the outside it would be perceived that he was happy. He had a well paying job at which he was very talented, he had a nice car and he owned his own home. Yes, from the outside it would seem that life was good.

The man reached the bathroom, flicked the switch and bathed the white room in light. He kept his gaze down as he moved towards the sink. With one brush of his arm he cleared the bench, spilling the contents onto the floor. He placed both hands around the edges of the sink to support himself, as if he didn’t trust his legs to hold. His eyes remained down, staring directly into the bowl.

Life had not been easy for the man, everything he had he had to work for. From a very early age the man learnt he could only depend on himself, that in this world there is only one you can truly trust. This notion may have made him bitter, but it also made him strong.

(this has not ended on a cliff hanger, simply the place where i have gotten bored. Besides i like the notion of breaking what maybe a less than 600 word short story into two non perceivable parts)