911 Emergency

Paramedics, police, or fire department?
A passing thought, why not just bring all three?

There he is, curled up in a painfully skinny little huddle, blood tinging thin lips, twitching bald forehead, clothed with shredded rags, sobbing while he babbles in a thin piping voice about his traumatic experience just a few minutes over.

The firetruck arrives, along with the paramedics.

For all the world cares, the shivering creature on the curb side in the back of a fast-food drive-thru is a insignificant bug that was toppled over on its back. He takes on an appearance as less than human, no one even asks his name.

He has little in his small world, much like a bug crawling around the ground, dwarfed by towering blades of grass. The bigger bad bugs have fled the scene, leaving behind a pile of junk and empty beer bottles.

A bird flies across the deserted lot, and a car passes down the street, blasting heavy metal for all the world to hear.

Stained

Emotions seeping through my mind like spilled coffee, first steaming and fading to dull, cold dampness.
Leaving blemishes on my thoughts, crumpling some into wrinkled abominations, waiting to be blown away by the dusty wind.
Aftershock, jolted to reality for a moment, then back to seething black pits. Beyond horror, removed from red and gold flames. Frozen as an ancient statue in the autumn mist.