S.W.A.T.

My first shot at a very short story.

My eyes can smell the taste of lust in this man. My soul shivers in fear, cowering. Constriction and confusion. The Unknown is preventing my escape. I struggle with every line of text, slowly forcing out little by little. As I write, I find myself creating an all-new character in my literature. The stench of rust emanates from an old bike behind the desk. My environment is surrounded with danger awaiting my arrival. A crash, and splinters. Screaming and the cockroaches scurry to their crack in the wall. The Unknown is preventing my escape. Society has caught up to me. I've finished writing.