Under the Mystery

The streets are vacant under the mystery rain gently falling as I gaze into the cold blue depth of a fluorescence-lit street Languishing… Under blaring lamps, the hardtop black flickers wet from the rain, I try to keep the cold night at bay with the sharp burn of rum as the city hums! Lucidity… bright! Overheard by none, it shimmers absently waiting to die. I watch in horror a lingering dread, of a dark figure walking along the edge they gather their cloaks as the wind bluster! Absently…flapping! Something grows hot as at the tip of my fingers a cigarette burns dully in the light, I pull a drag of acidic smoke, I flick it into the wind, the hot tip smashes the ashes drift in spirals…spins! Tilting… Away, lazily in the wind, I feel the need for a shot of hot rum, I reach for my gun and turn into the wind gathering my thoughts, fading… I feel the hum of the engine, the purr of its idle, the muffled sound of the radio, the street and its vacant MISERY! The rain still falls gently on my face turning, feeling the mystery, trying to shake the thoughts; of needing a drink... (Of Rum!)