text: The years were blazing fast for Leo. Riding down the highway on a cool 40mph, he sat there only half paying attention to the road. The night was young and looking for trouble, and who was he to not take the moon to the bar with him. After what he would consider a hard days work he would usually relax and unwind at the local bar, usually with a terrible headache afterwards. The resented tax for the night of waste scolded him in the morning; he knew it was bad for him, but where was he ever going to go with his life? He was content with his twin lovers. He knew he would eventually get what had asked for with his life of envy and sloth; and if that resulted with and eternity in hell so be it. From his point of view he was doomed since birth. God something or other. Chewed up and spit out onto the lonely streets, he made his way. No one could tell you how to live your life and this is how Leo lived his. Using his funds to fuel his background character lifestyle. Never for the benefit of anybody. But i'm not saying he never cared or felt raw emotion. He usually spent the sober hours with the moon on wet cotton. Often in his own self pity, it never lasted long. He had a heart, even if it was drowned out in salty liquor. Leo was in a sort of mopey attitude that day; going through the usual movements he slid his way into the bar. Where he sat alone at a booth, wondering what the bottom of the glass looked like. Of course it was just glass as he stared thinking his drunken thoughts alone. The bar was usually dull on weekdays but this was something different. The empty atmosphere was uninviting to anyone looking into the bar from outside, and especially to the people looking out into the street. Leo sat there in deep thought. For some reason his drunken state seemed to dissipate and he became very aware of his own mortality. Looking down on his body he felt a deep, raw sorrow and started to fill up his own cup with his tears. He stopped very abruptly and looked down to the table. He shouldn't be crying. His body became heavy and he had no intent to get up. He got up anyway and stumbled his way through the door. The moon welcomed him and shone bright in his appearance. The empty street was lonely and accepted the company to dull the pain of being driven on. Leo kept his head down and was warm even though he only had a t-shirt on. He kept walking to no destination something that was new to him. Looking up he realized how bright the night was. He could see even without the street lights. That made it easy to spot the kid in the alleyway. The familiar sound of spray paint hissed through the silent air. Leo called out and the kid went off running; dropping his backpack and leaving everything where it was. Leo just wanted to say hello, but he stood there watching the kid run away. The kid turned the corner and was out of sight. He stood still staring into the dark alley. The night slowly went quiet again and forgot all about the events prior. The black alleyway beckoned him, sang to him better than a siren. He looked left and right like a little child that just stole some candy. He walked quickly and energetically toward the bag and spotted a couple of spray cans sticking out of the little kid’s pack. This nothing out of the ordinary sight reminded him of a better time. Without the stress of an adult. Saturday morning cartoons and sugary cereal. He always knew that he took everything for granted but never showed his gratitude. He figured that it was too late to thank his parents, but he was used to being too late. He had a knack of procrastination and what seemed like bad luck. He knew everything that was wrong about him, and he didn't know himself as much as he thought he did. He couldn't care what was wrong with him. He sat; a lazy sack of excuses and regret. A perfect victim for the steal claws of the bar. He knew he was trapped and sat there, wasting his life away. To him he couldn't believe that he could do anything. To late, pretending life is meaningless to satisfy his conclusion. A fatal conclusion but name a conclusion that isn't. A decision isn't going to give someone immortality. So why bother making one if you can't escape the inevitable? At this moment Leo despised himself. Taking a good long look at himself, he got a sudden sickness in his stomach. He didn't want to be this husk anymore, but he was afraid of change. He knew he needed to or he would die an early death (something he always seems to gloss over). Going all the way back to his childhood he could remember all the after school specials and lessons to prepare him for adult life. Did he look like a guy that paid attention? The only class he had ever had an A in was art. Suddenly, something came over Leo. A wave of his own despair? The urge to become someone different? He never gave an answer. But I do know that Leo went down to pick up one of the Spray cans. Leo took a long look at the wall which had a large red line going straight down the center of the empty space that the kid had made. Something about this line sent Leo a message. He wanted to change. A calm and collected mind found him in a sea of clarity. He scolded himself for wasting his good years. No, his good years were in front of him. Still, why was he so oblivious to his ability of change? He was told to follow his dreams, he was told to make himself happy. He still could. This marked the moment when he decided to have his revolution. The hiss of spray paint flew through the quiet night once again. Even though its been years since his last art project , Leo still painted like he was a professional. Naturally of course, he had no time to practice his craft. He realized now that he did have time. It was again stolen from him. All of his time he wasted with the devil daughters did nothing for him in the end. Just gave him a headache and a death wish. He couldn't stop lingering on how much of a weak baby he really was. If he had any ounce of manhood he would stop and make something of himself. Somehow the paint painted with more determination. The moon stopped dead in its tracks and laid down its bright blanket so her friend could see. Leo didn't realize it at the time but the moon really was there for him. Minutes or hours passed, he couldn't tell what he was thinking about. The hissing drowned out any and all of his senses (or he just wasn't paying attention). That made it exceptionally shocking when the police officer tapped him on the shoulder. Leo jumped up and dropped his can in surprise. He turned to see the officer confused and intrigued at the paint. The officer started talking but I couldn't catch what was said over the siren. He pulled out a breathalyzer and had Leo breathe into it revealing to him that Leo was drinking earlier. Of course he was drinking earlier. He had Leo get into the back of his police car and drove off. Then the night was still. The wall accepted the new work of art that was hung up on it. The street winced when the car drove over it. The moon continued over the horizon letting the sun peak at whatever Leo got himself into during the night. Letting the crowd of daywalkers swallow the remains of whatever peace the night held. Including Leo who was getting fined and charged to two weeks of community service. (Found this from a while ago, my first ever story. Go little me!) .