Unrest


Howard woke up that morning with the intent to kill every living person on the face of the Earth. The lack of sleep lingered over his body as if there was a slightly crushing force extending a tormenting orb throughout the realm that was himself. The Luger made him twitch with an incandescent longing for sanguine. Not yet. A window offered the glimpse of hell without, as the sinners roamed streets paved with sweat off the other sinners. His tropical worsted suit was in order for the day that he had planned, and his favorite blue striped bow tie would make a perfect fit for his calm demeanor. He had reached the gracefulness that can only be achieved through smoldering rage that burns into molten hatred for other sentient beings. This feeling of absolute disgust and antipathy bent all curved perceptions into straight, narrowed objectives. He had purpose.
The night before, Howie, as the friends he didn’t have in high school called him, departed his mother’s humbly decrepit apartment in Camden, New Jersey to see a double feature in Philadelphia. He lingered for a long, long while. One would wonder why Howie would sit through so many showings of the same films by himself, as both films were absolutely horrible and dull.
The first film, I Cheated the Law, was about a gangster who got away with murdering a man, until the wily lawyer protagonist tricked him into confessing to another killing. The gangster was so inclined into making the movie more tawdry than it already was that he even confessed to the original murder once he realized that the guileful lawyer pinned him. The second film, The Lady Gambles, was wildly complex in contrast. It was about a woman who visited La Vegas with her husband and tried gambling for the first time, but then became addicted. She fell into debt, and her husband divorced her.
Howie sat through each showing three times straight without getting up. He then went to the restroom and returned with a medium sized buttered popcorn and a Coke. Howie finished the popcorn like lightning, because he didn’t have the luxury of supper that evening. He spent the entire day erecting a gate that he and his mother could enter to get to her apartment without traveling through the neighbor’s yard. But they tore it down. That’s why he made his decision to kill.

About Sean William Lynch
Sean William Lynch is a poet from New Jersey who was born in 1992. Lynch's first book of poems "the city of your mind" was published in 2013 by Whirlwind Press. Frank Sherlock, the poet laureate of Philadelphia, called Lynch's debut poetry book "visionary." CA Conrad claimed that the book was "marvelous!" S.W. Lynch's writing has been featured in numerous publications online and in print, including Milkfist, Poetry Quarterly, and Tincture Journal.

One Response to Unrest

  1. This is very interesting, You are a very professional blogger.

    I have joined your rss feed and look forward to in the hunt for extra of your fantastic post.
    Additionally, I have shared your site in my social networks

Share Your Thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: