cthulhudreamt

I layed in bed, as the last tendrils of a stupor relinquish their grasp on my mind. The room was groggy and blurred, shifting with the light from the near noon sun. I arose slowly, leaned on my elbow for support. I scratched my chest lazily, and experienced the world through slits of vision. I lit a cigarette and took a long drag, my head pounded and my throat was course and dry. I looked over to the alarm clock on the nightstand beside me and read the time, "11:51." Sitting up, I assessed the room, lookied to see what damage I had done the night before stumbling into bed in the dark. The floor was littered with papers, scrawled upon them hal

The rain hissed on the warm Tokyo asphalt. Mist arose like lazy tendrils of some menacing monster. She stood there, her face aglow in the pale arcade lights. Her hair was brown. Short. Cropped to keep it out of her way. Her eyes were lined with a black make-up stick, wide and alert in the cacophony of the arcade. She was precocious in her corduroy skirt and print stockings, boyish, but yet enticing. I watched her from afar, she was singled out in my vision. Isolated, I felt the electric pulse of emotion, the static sensation of awareness. We spent the night together; sharing coffee and dreams. She was the type of girl you called the "white r