A Night Drive Into The Abyss

Eli Brooks
Sep 8 · 2 min read

A cityscape of empty beer cans and ash twinkle with electric light. Smoke rises with the crackle of cancer, while one more shot of whiskey snakes it’s way through my lips. The beat drops in like a ton of bricks and the room shakes and shivers to the sound of belts cracking to hydraulic pumps. I press pause and make my way out of the outside.

Bright white light pokes me in the eyes and I struggle to adjust. Like some kind of intoxicated pale cave dweller, I lurch forward into the kitchen. Rubbing my eyes and fumbling for the refrigerator door. A gaseous hiss escapes, as the cold can of beer, gives up its secrets.

This beer is fucking terrible

I mutter as I throw my head back and gulp as much of it down as I can manage, without choking. Half tilted laughter bouncing around the room from the high top table behind me.

It’s not that bad

the tallest of my bandmates slurs from behind a stagnant haze drifting through the house.

It really isn’t, once you’ve had a few of them!

A triumphant belch from deep in his diaphragm, echoing out almost as if to notarize the statement.

More laughter bounces around the room. The square-jawed guitarist slapping his hand against the back of the musician next to him. Belting out broken half-sentences and long drawn out vowels.

“I’m headed out”

I chuckle, shaking my head.

It was just one more night at the Use Restraint house. One more night of smoke-filled abandon, of drunken merrymaking and chaos, embraced.

The door swings open to a full moon, cradled between two wispy clouds smeared like oil paint against the sky. The humidity and I stumble into one another. Sticky and warm the night air envelopes me and beads of sweat form against the back of my neck where my bomber jacket and skin make contact with one another.

The rattle of hidden insects screaming out to the tungsten stained sidewalks and moss-draped street lights vibrate my inner ear as I turn the corner and leap out into traffic. It’s time to get going, it’s time to get out.

White knuckles grip a steering wheel and I’m flying. Flying through one more moment, searching for nothing, cutting through the abyss with balled-up fists.

Lighting myself ablaze just to marvel at the light.

Laughing at the absurdity of it all.

If you enjoyed this excerpt from a book I’ll never write, please share it with friends or enemies. If you like descriptive fiction, dark poetry, erotica, and cynical humor please follow me: Eli Brooks

Or, at very least, check out my other work and give yourself a reason to feel better about your writing.

© 2019; Eli Brooks. All Rights Reserved

Moments of Passion

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Eli Brooks

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🖤 Poet 😎 Demotivational Speaker 🧠 Terrible Advice For Great Results

Moments of Passion

Live Passionately

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