Sometimes he'd get too upset, and just have to walk. It was all the things together, it wasn't his roommate, but his roommate and the world, and that he wasn't aware. It was just that, the whole picture, it wasn't his roommates fault, nor was it his. It wasn't his fault he felt like this. He turned down the street he normally went. The white grey of the cement sidewalk covered in different colors of orange and yellow and red. He smashed and crashed through them, clearing a small path. Although he knew soon it would be covered again.
He felt better. Less angry, he could seperate his roommate from everything else boiling in the background. He still didn't really want to pick him up, but it was okay. He would if he was free. If he wasn't he wasn't. His roommate he thought is an adult.
He turned down the next street, and a house caught his eye. Bright blue, but dark at the same time. It surprised him he walked there almost everyday, but he had never known this house. Or he hadn't noticed this house before, not like this. He was drawn to it, inexplicably drawn to it.
He felt better. Less angry, he could seperate his roommate from everything else boiling in the background. He still didn't really want to pick him up, but it was okay. He would if he was free. If he wasn't he wasn't. His roommate he thought is an adult.
He turned down the next street, and a house caught his eye. Bright blue, but dark at the same time. It surprised him he walked there almost everyday, but he had never known this house. Or he hadn't noticed this house before, not like this. He was drawn to it, inexplicably drawn to it.