(Photo Credit: H.R.R. Gorman)
The house looked as though it had been recently kissed by an asteroid. In a state of lamentable shambles, it was a ghastly sight to behold. Rolls of tissue crisscrossed across the master bedroom in a serpentine fashion. Tattered rags lay strewn about as though paying obeisance to a rodent ball. Appendages of furniture sticking out from under the mess made for a perverse jigsaw puzzle.
They found him in a disheveled and deplorable state squatting on the floor right next to an open window. Unwashed and unfocused, crossed arms hugging himself, he was crooning softly while making a monotonous rocking motion. A lullaby for the denied, a song for the deserted. His eyes were vacant, distant and lifeless.
Now ten years to that fateful day, he was gently murmuring to an adolescent girl who had tears streaming down her eyes. “Depression need not and should never be a choice. It is just a transitory gatecrasher trying your patience and testing your will power.”
(Word Count: 164)
This story has been written as part of the FLASH FICTION FOR ASPIRING WRITERS – FFfAW Challenge #201, more details about which may be found HERE
For reading similar entries submitted in response to the FFfAW Challenge #201 please click HERE
Thank You H.R.R.Gorman for the photograph!