Grey Morning Case
Essay by rgm1089 • July 3, 2013 • Case Study • 792 Words (4 Pages) • 1,428 Views
Grey morning. Unusual hot air for September hangs over the full trees. Steady stance on the dock, the strain on his knees lingers from the night before. Sudden glances are his only social interactions, no wonder he thinks. No wonder I am who I am! The pain in his ribs pulsates with every burning thought, his eyes wincing but focused on his line. He spares himself the cerebral re-run of self-hatred that has taken over his mind with the suppressant of choice, whiskey. Offering himself a smile of gratitude, he glances up across the river. Maybe I'll try that shore tomorrow, he thinks.
The steadily increasing parade of runners, bikers, and walkers annoys him, as it does every morning. Mockingly he reminisces of the days when no one, especially women, would wander this part of the river at dawn. With pure amusement, he lets his mind run unhindered as the scantily clad women run by, occasionally vocalizing his thoughts. Angered at his own garbled verbage, he reaches for his liquid courage, spitting out curses under his breath as he raises his eyes again to the other side of the river. Maybe I'll try that shore tomorrow, he thinks.
Grey morning. Unusual hot air for September hangs over the full trees. Steady stance on the dock, the strain on his knees lingers from the night before. Sudden glances are his only social interactions, no wonder he thinks. No wonder I am who I am! The pain in his ribs pulsates with every burning thought, his eyes wincing but focused on his line. He spares himself the cerebral re-run of self-hatred that has taken over his mind with the suppressant of choice, whiskey. Offering himself a smile of gratitude, he glances up across the river. Maybe I'll try that shore tomorrow, he thinks.
The steadily increasing parade of runners, bikers, and walkers annoys him, as it does every morning. Mockingly he reminisces of the days when no one, especially women, would wander this part of the river at dawn. With pure amusement, he lets his mind run unhindered as the scantily clad women run by, occasionally vocalizing his thoughts. Angered at his own garbled verbage, he reaches for his liquid courage, spitting out curses under his breath as he raises his eyes again to the other side of the river. Maybe I'll try that shore tomorrow, he thinks.
Grey morning. Unusual hot air for September hangs over the full trees. Steady stance on the dock, the strain on his knees lingers from the night before. Sudden glances are his only social interactions, no wonder he thinks. No wonder I am who I am! The pain in his ribs pulsates with every burning thought, his eyes wincing but focused on his line. He spares himself the cerebral re-run of self-hatred that has taken over his mind with the suppressant of choice, whiskey. Offering himself a smile of gratitude, he glances up across the river. Maybe I'll try that shore tomorrow, he thinks.
The steadily increasing parade of runners, bikers, and walkers
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