The nerve. The nerve of this man..no.. child, was an abomination of sorts. A fine day would be shattered by those who risked having a conversation with him. They’d risk having their heart taken and crushed, their dreams dropped, ambitions fumbled. The nerve. He spoke unkind words but hissed them liked a skilled snake, the slimy scales creeping their way into your emotions.
Just as his words were unkind his figure was just as writhing as his tongue; he was not wanted amongst the band of people, only anger struck them once he passed their way. The nerve; now fleeting, as he goes inside his rusty cage and thinks of what he’s become.