Typical Striker

Since I don't do short stories.....ever

Early in the morning,
the unyielding proof of silence
is finally broken.
A quick blow of the fist,
clenched and drenched in blood,
emits a sudden urge of ecstasy.

I cease to think.
I go on spontaneously.
Never mind the smell of dirt
...the sweat clinging on my neck
...or the snapping of bones.
From the madness I emerge
euphoric, confident, unwavering.
The clarity of my vision
belies the chaos within.

*snaps fingers*

groovy cat, i can dig it

*sobs*
its....so......sad............

yarrrr? '______'

the next one won't suck so much

that kid in your sig is totally german.