Third FF I write. It is not an action packed short-story. I wanted to take a different approach to this short story. Please criticize and leave your opinion! English is not my first language.
"I don't know"-said a young man as he leveled his head and combed his black hair backwards, as if with a new, clearer sight he would be able to answer such an unexpected curiosity-"but that's a very good question."
A troubled mind sat down on a black, leather couch located in one of the city's most lavishing hotels. He sat recumbently, with his head slightly tilted in a way that his line of sight ran along his right arm and met with an unconstrained cigarette, loosely dangling in between his index and middle finger. He stared unresponsively into the burning cigarette, detached from his surroundings, he continuously watched as the cigarette gradually burned and the ashes fell to the floor.
It was a cold evening, and a soothing, exotic type of music echoed in the background. It was the type of music that beautifully encompassed a variety of instruments and evoked in the listener the feeling of being in a place -outer space, the amazons, the Caribbean; it was lounge music. The man kept searching for closure in the cigarette, as if somewhere in that black, thin, clover flavored luxury he would find a comfortable feeling that would put an end to his problems. Physically he was at the lounge of that hotel, but the hypnotizing melodies that subtly resonated in the atmosphere took advantage of his newly found vulnerable emotional feel and had taken him somewhere else. His surroundings were reduced to simple blurs of colors, flashing lights and unrecognizable silhouettes.
The fire burned the cigarette with finesse, and a thin trail of smoke gracefully rose up and vanished into the air. A young, finely dressed man sat down on a black, leather couch of a hotel lounge and tried to find meaning to all that had just happened to him. He felt empty, and a huge void, slowly but surely, was beginning to replace his soul. There he was, a man that had indulged in greed, lust and addiction sat appalled in a black, leather couch of a luxurious hotel and tried to grasp the whole of his reality.
"Sir" -suddenly, a sweet and innocent voice broke his state of trance. Still dumbfounded and somewhat unresponsive, the man did not know who was speaking or from where, but nevertheless, he was able to tilt his head a little to the sides and make up a blurry, but satisfying silhouette. Everything was distorted, and he felt surreal. -"is everything alright?"
A few seconds passed, and he regained perception. He looked up at the woman, grasped his cigarette strongly and smoked. He did not know what to answer, his previous state of trance had just deviated him from the real problem. He did not understand why or how he felt. The void kept growing, but he did not understand the reason for it. Nothing was missing, he had money, women and everything anyone could ever ask for. He had bought happiness.
Still pondering on what to answer, the young man gave up; if he had not figured out before, he was not going to in the next few seconds. With an obscure and fatigued expression on his face, he simply leveled his head, combed his luscious, black hair backwards, and replied: "I don't know, but that's a very good question."
"I don't know"-said a young man as he leveled his head and combed his black hair backwards, as if with a new, clearer sight he would be able to answer such an unexpected curiosity-"but that's a very good question."
A troubled mind sat down on a black, leather couch located in one of the city's most lavishing hotels. He sat recumbently, with his head slightly tilted in a way that his line of sight ran along his right arm and met with an unconstrained cigarette, loosely dangling in between his index and middle finger. He stared unresponsively into the burning cigarette, detached from his surroundings, he continuously watched as the cigarette gradually burned and the ashes fell to the floor.
It was a cold evening, and a soothing, exotic type of music echoed in the background. It was the type of music that beautifully encompassed a variety of instruments and evoked in the listener the feeling of being in a place -outer space, the amazons, the Caribbean; it was lounge music. The man kept searching for closure in the cigarette, as if somewhere in that black, thin, clover flavored luxury he would find a comfortable feeling that would put an end to his problems. Physically he was at the lounge of that hotel, but the hypnotizing melodies that subtly resonated in the atmosphere took advantage of his newly found vulnerable emotional feel and had taken him somewhere else. His surroundings were reduced to simple blurs of colors, flashing lights and unrecognizable silhouettes.
The fire burned the cigarette with finesse, and a thin trail of smoke gracefully rose up and vanished into the air. A young, finely dressed man sat down on a black, leather couch of a hotel lounge and tried to find meaning to all that had just happened to him. He felt empty, and a huge void, slowly but surely, was beginning to replace his soul. There he was, a man that had indulged in greed, lust and addiction sat appalled in a black, leather couch of a luxurious hotel and tried to grasp the whole of his reality.
"Sir" -suddenly, a sweet and innocent voice broke his state of trance. Still dumbfounded and somewhat unresponsive, the man did not know who was speaking or from where, but nevertheless, he was able to tilt his head a little to the sides and make up a blurry, but satisfying silhouette. Everything was distorted, and he felt surreal. -"is everything alright?"
A few seconds passed, and he regained perception. He looked up at the woman, grasped his cigarette strongly and smoked. He did not know what to answer, his previous state of trance had just deviated him from the real problem. He did not understand why or how he felt. The void kept growing, but he did not understand the reason for it. Nothing was missing, he had money, women and everything anyone could ever ask for. He had bought happiness.
Still pondering on what to answer, the young man gave up; if he had not figured out before, he was not going to in the next few seconds. With an obscure and fatigued expression on his face, he simply leveled his head, combed his luscious, black hair backwards, and replied: "I don't know, but that's a very good question."
Last edited:
