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Ouromov

Show me how to live

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Amazing as expected. Great writing, brother. I miss you. Hope to catch up soon.

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Appreciate it! We shall see where my motivation or lack of it will eventually lead me 😂

For now, I write!

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His gaze lingered on his radio for a moment longer after the last words flowed out. Habitually knocking the device against his temple. He was dancing on that line. That very thin careful line he had set for himself out in a moment of fear, when that new visitor came looking for his cabin. A new sensation he never welcomed to that space, let alone his head.
It had followed him since that call, stepping in his shadow to his grave where it perhaps truly first reared it's ugly head. Hiding behind the trees, beneath his boat and here it was tap tap tapping on his door. Following him straight back to the island and the new dwelling he had found after his cabin had been ransacked.

It whispered of loss to his drunken ear, even before it had happened. It insisted to stay away or lose it all again. Draw back, keep to yourself. Food, water, bullets, medicine. That's all you need. Crack a few jokes, ask for the news, move on. It's worked so far. 
It whispered nameless, like the rude visitor it was..but it had a name.


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Run.. run..run..before it bites. Flee before the roots take place and you begin to care. That's where the danger lies, that's where the mistakes happen. That's where lives get snuffed out. It began a whisper, but turned quickly into a loud noise. Sounds, voices, memories.

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Jensen, the first to go. Quick, painless. The first time he had noticed just how fragile the human life is. One moment there, another just gone. Like sand through fingers, within grasp, but slipping away just like that.
That child on that alleyway holding that gun... No he wouldn't go there, not now..
Jaromir Lucic, that impish grin didn't leave him even on the operating table. Echoing through him and Milan in lessons and influences. Habits and wisdom's. It locked Milan into that medical tent for ages with the pretense of helping and learning, as if he clinged to his presence like he hadn't left the premises at all. Even after the flat-line rang out, the curtain call to his show. 
Then came Milan's turn. The most surprising, so careful, a kindred spirit that dwelled in silence, but began enjoying the noise around him as well. Hesitation wasn't in his nature, there was always a plan. Perhaps Milan had lingered in the same space as he was right now, forcing him to step astray. 
Yet here he was, allowed the privilege to taste, to feel, to breathe and linger as he willed. Why? For what purpose? "Allowed" he thought as if the dead held onto him constantly like an unnamed bargain had been struck. Reminding that it was all borrowed from them. Like those grains of sand, slipping away, but the coarse texture made him feel them against the callous heart of his palm. No, this sensation had a name too...


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Another thirsty swig from the bottle. As if there was a drowning god at the bottom, waiting to surface with his help. Granting him the numbness from these new acquaintances he had made in the dark moments of the night as a repayment for his efforts. 
He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep ragged breath. Huffing it out in the stillness and quiet that surrounded him. Accompanied only by the creak of the chair he was sat upon and whatever the forest decided to converse with him in private. 


Numbness came with sleep. Forced, yet effective. The blessing of the drowning god hidden in that bottle of vodka came in the form of a hangover. Filling his mind and body with too many other maladies for him to think on those two visitors that made a home in his mind. 
It left him with that lazy smile he would don when he ran across the various survivors on that day. 

"Car troubles, ya? Mind telling me the news while you're at it, mm?"
"Trouble in the south? No gunning, but dangerous people?"
"Stay safe out there, mm?" 

Conversation flowed, and passed with the strangers he met. His steps eventually carried him back to where he started, he wasn't looking forward to the conversation he would have with himself again on one of those nights.


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(Nothing like not being able to sleep, to get some traumas up for your character going! 😐 )

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I musta missed this one! Awesome as always, Ouromov ❤️ 

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