He stood on the balcony, alone. It was always easier alone. The crimson sunset seemed to reflect the anger in his heart, if not the hatred in his soul. Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the wind, he watched the hot embers as they made contact with the metallic side of Garden. "There goes another day off my worthless life," he mused to himself. That alone kept him smoking&it was a gradual, hopefully painful, death. He deserved it.
