The young man sits there smoking a cigar, peacefully, he leans back in his wheelchair just at the end of the pier. He stares up at the seagulls, hearing them squawk loudly and watching them divebomb, intertwining, before turning back up towards the whiteness of the calm cloudy sky. He takes one more draw, deep and with substance. He blows out smoke which is instantly taken by the breeze. His gaze now focused, almost seeming hypnotised by the beauty and the vastness of the dark blue sea. He unclips the breaks and rolls himself straight off the edge.
They tell you it’s tough at the top, but it’s a lot tougher at the bottom. Short stories: Drugs. Violence. Dark humour. ✍️🤓