Metaphor Writing

Metaphor Writing - 4

Submitted by ebeMajor on Tue, 02/06/2018

Smokey Train

Sitting on a park bench, with all his belongings crammed up in a rather crumpled plastic bag, with no money, no cigarettes, no food, he felt adrift. He was not comfortable in the park at such an early hour, no willing joggers that morning, no dog sitters, no patrolling cops that day, no lonesome drunkard muttering random curses in his desperate malaise. The newsagent kiosk was closed, the traffic light was blinking vainly at the desert crossroad. A cold drizzle settled over his worn out suit, making his bones resentful.