that crack

Smokeringz

Well-known member
That crack.
He sat down on the sofa, Mike was his name. Tall, Caucasian, messy hair, with a blonde shaggy beard was his appearance. A painting was behind him, abstract of a guitar. Very colourful.
He turned on the television, and began to flip channels.
The news he thought my window to the outside world. He turned to the window (the real one this time) was it open even in the slightest bit? He thought. Could they hear what I am saying? No that’s absurd I’m thinking he thought.
Mike turned back to the television calm although weary; he turned back to the window. It hung above the kitchen sink.
That crack, he thought.
He got up to adjust the error. He sighed with relief once it had been adjusted. Outside it was summer, a good morning. He closed the blinds.
He sat back down, only to have his peace disturbed by a loud bang.
The outside door he thought.
He went to close it when yet another thought that came to him. the outside...
I can at least check through the doors window to check for anybody he said to himself.
He checked and nobody was to be seen.
He opened the door, and closed the other.
That crack he thought
The end
 
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