Post by Matthew on Aug 14, 2010 15:26:08 GMT -5
With the last pair of dark shoes disappearing, he was now able to relax in his little chair. He did not falter, however, hurriedly standing up. The hood concealed his face as he picked up his chair and pulled it out of the tiny tent that had been gagging him over the past four hours. It was a typical thing as of late as he watched people walk in. The tent did not choke Matthew Williams due to its size; it was all because of guilt. Guilt.
He went back inside, grabbing at the chair the customer would sit in. The two chairs were meant to be a matching pair of glossy dark wood, there being a leather padding on the seat of a nice deep red. The chair that Matthew sat in was worn, the leather nearly pink and the arms of the chair being scratched up. It was like symbolism of good and evil. Pure and filthy. That simply strangled him.
Matthew Williams was bad.
The circular table was pulled outside as well, glass ball falling off its top as the dirty velvet cloth was threatening to slip off as well. The ball landed safely in the grass and rolled off as Matthew grabbed hold of the table cloth and began to fold it. His hands trembled as the cloth soon was a small square, being placed on the now naked table. It was abandoned for a short moment to go pick up the glass ball and the golden painted base that had also fallen off the table. With his hands somewhat full, Matthew went inside the tent to pick up a dark teal bag on the ground with a crescent shape in faded white thread. He pushed the base into the bag and took it with the ball outside.
Being back outside, Matthew sat the bag and the ball on the table. The cloak was then pulled up and off, blond hair falling down a bit below his ears, cloak being thrown off onto the table. He buttoned up a button on the maroon vest he dawned with white long sleeves being rolled up. Those were pulled down, collar being straightened out and hair then tucked down behind his ears. Matthew faced the tent, dark blue on the outside, beginning to tug at it to somehow disassemble it. The supporters were tugged out from under the colour and causing it to collapse. It was soon folded up like the table cloth with more difficulty.
With everything now taken down, Matthew weakly sighed to himself. His face fell and then he slumped over at the sight of the taken down tent and just…everything. This was his life. He was growing to feel sick because of it. The teal bag was lifted off the table, lifting it up a bit away from his face. His hand held tightly onto the draw strings, a frown flickering over the pale face. He grabbed onto it with his other hand, opening the bag and looking down into it. There was another sigh, dropping the bag down onto the table.
That bag held more of his guilt.
He took a few steps to the side, meaning to lean against the table. To put it simply, the idiot missed. Instead of being up against the table, Matthew begin to fall backward. He tried to grab onto the table for support, the glass ball rolling and hitting against the bag. The opened bag went off to the grass, cards spilling out and the ball’s base sticking out from the opening of the bag. He was on the ground, hand on the side of the table with his bottom now rather sore. He grunts, pulling himself up off the ground.
He went back inside, grabbing at the chair the customer would sit in. The two chairs were meant to be a matching pair of glossy dark wood, there being a leather padding on the seat of a nice deep red. The chair that Matthew sat in was worn, the leather nearly pink and the arms of the chair being scratched up. It was like symbolism of good and evil. Pure and filthy. That simply strangled him.
Matthew Williams was bad.
The circular table was pulled outside as well, glass ball falling off its top as the dirty velvet cloth was threatening to slip off as well. The ball landed safely in the grass and rolled off as Matthew grabbed hold of the table cloth and began to fold it. His hands trembled as the cloth soon was a small square, being placed on the now naked table. It was abandoned for a short moment to go pick up the glass ball and the golden painted base that had also fallen off the table. With his hands somewhat full, Matthew went inside the tent to pick up a dark teal bag on the ground with a crescent shape in faded white thread. He pushed the base into the bag and took it with the ball outside.
Being back outside, Matthew sat the bag and the ball on the table. The cloak was then pulled up and off, blond hair falling down a bit below his ears, cloak being thrown off onto the table. He buttoned up a button on the maroon vest he dawned with white long sleeves being rolled up. Those were pulled down, collar being straightened out and hair then tucked down behind his ears. Matthew faced the tent, dark blue on the outside, beginning to tug at it to somehow disassemble it. The supporters were tugged out from under the colour and causing it to collapse. It was soon folded up like the table cloth with more difficulty.
With everything now taken down, Matthew weakly sighed to himself. His face fell and then he slumped over at the sight of the taken down tent and just…everything. This was his life. He was growing to feel sick because of it. The teal bag was lifted off the table, lifting it up a bit away from his face. His hand held tightly onto the draw strings, a frown flickering over the pale face. He grabbed onto it with his other hand, opening the bag and looking down into it. There was another sigh, dropping the bag down onto the table.
That bag held more of his guilt.
He took a few steps to the side, meaning to lean against the table. To put it simply, the idiot missed. Instead of being up against the table, Matthew begin to fall backward. He tried to grab onto the table for support, the glass ball rolling and hitting against the bag. The opened bag went off to the grass, cards spilling out and the ball’s base sticking out from the opening of the bag. He was on the ground, hand on the side of the table with his bottom now rather sore. He grunts, pulling himself up off the ground.