Gone Town- A Story
A brilliant beam of sun filtered into the tight rectangular space, prompting Rod Cartwright’s rude awakening. He squinted, his brow furrowing and clenching together in a wrinkled mess before releasing and partially lifting a strand of dark hair off of his forehead. Cartwright shaded his face with his calloused palm as if he was some kind of irritated primate. The cheap, antiquated mattress squeaked as Cartwright sat up in the small twin. He swore that he had closed the curtains the night before, he cursed himself for allowing the faded pastel blue drapes to let the piercing rays inside the small apartment, if it was to be called that it would only be for lack of a better word. Cartwright’s stockinged feet stuck out from under the thin comforter, yellowed with age, his slight paunch showing from the light grey crewneck t-shirt that was draped across his torso. He slid out of bed, slipping on his weathered dark leather boots that hung loosely around his ankles. Their heavy ...