The moon shined over his head like a call from heaven, a bat-signal urging him to go home. The sky he oozed into reminded him of a blackboard he once stared into like forever, writing the words ‘I will never cheat again’ a million times in white powder that stuck to his shirt. He uttered a word that his mother wouldn’t like then rambled into the shade. It’s funny how it’s always shinier on earth in the winter, where all land is covered with snow. He grabbed a shiny snowball into his fist and kept it there to flourish his skin. He hated his tan.
Blue’s always been his favorite.

Accompanied by his raving bloodlust he crawled along the sidewalk of the streets that he’s built in his mind, searching for revenge of a crime he made up. A dog barked off his animal instincts and shoveled the remaining portion of his cake deep into the snow. An allegory of free speech and enunciating charisma rampaged an idea that he believed he once was. Surprisingly he fell into a dark circle and contrary to what they told him as a child, you can’t walk out of a maze by choosing a wall and walking next to it until eternity and more.
The maze promised heaven even though it can not speak.
He shouldn't have listened to the silent whispers from the void.
The blame he screamed was at himself.

December’s always been his favorite. It marked the end of a masterpiece. He knew that, like a movie, it eventually plays a twist to the year. It was like waiting by the window at night for the sun to shine again. The wait kills him. If only he could shut the drapes and pretend that the sun is right outside… He’d lie to himself, but at least he’d know that the only thing that separates him from those rays of hope is a window and not the hours he chose to rule out from his equation.

‘It’s addictive’, he said right before he faded back to the real.