literature

Funeral Home - Creative Writing 12

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AshurasDaughter's avatar
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Literature Text

The middle-aged man sighed, sitting back in the chair he had put on the fire escape of the familiar building.  He casually ran a hand through his short, messy hair, which was currently like a wet mat.  He glanced over to the window which he had stepped out of for a breath of fresh air.  He hated this place so much.

Though, it’s understandable.  It was a funeral home, and always smelled heavily of death.  Unfortunately, he made quite a few stops here on his route.  He was always dropping off sobbing family members here in his classic yellow cab.  People assume it’s an easy job, driving around the quiet city, but it isn’t.  It’s stressful seeing so many broken people.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it and taking a long drag from it before breathing out a puff of smoke.  Tapping the end of it, he let the cinders fall down the long drop to the ground.  The hard metal of the fire escape was starting to hurt him, so he stood, stretching and putting out the cigarette.  He forced open the window, taking a short breath before stepping in, a stern look on his face, as he refused to show sadness in this place.

He walked downstairs slowly, grabbing his keys off a rack and slipping on a raincoat.  He left the funeral home, walking to his cab just as it began to rain.  “This is the life…huh?”  He questioned.  “Heh….yeah….some life.  Look at me now ma’, driving people to this place till I end up here too.”  He then forces open the old door to the driver’s side, getting in and driving away from the place of death.
Yep, another.  Short, cause I didn't have much for this one.
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ThunderClawDaFluffy's avatar
This story is so depressing--