Nothing New

What is it about watching the rain from the other side of a cracked and dirty window pane that makes you look back at life's ebbs and flows just that little bit harder?

Whatever. It's nothing new, just the usual tale of woe celebrated over a half glass of red wine in every city across the nation. The divorced parents, the violent father and the runaway kids. My older brother worked two lousy jobs so I could stay in school. I got the better deal out of it. At least I'm still breathing.

I laugh into the glass before draining it. The sound wouldn't be so bitter if it was just the backdrop to the latest shitty blockbuster offering...

Hi everyone! Looking to find a home here and weave some storytelling and roleplay into APB. Hope you'll have me.

There's something about the rain toward the conclusion of an evening served as desert to the musty humidity of the latter afternoon which brings refreshment to the pallettes and pavements of both the dryest of mouths and dustiest of cities. A moisture which follows to evaporate into even the most scorched histories of incendiary homes and flammable personalities.

You should leaf through some pages of the 'next chapter', while we fetch you a quill with with to write your own.

"...That summer, the video store by my house closed. I remember, they had a big sale on all of the B-movies that they weren't going to sell to other rental places or donate to the library. Looking through them, they all had the same bold font, the same action-pose, the same vague, meaningless four star ratings. I don't remember any of their names..."


(A beautifully atmospheric piece. I'm really very excited to see more from you soon. Welcome to the Rain Dogs!)