Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25365080-20150419160134

I have grown accustomed to these short walks--really short ones, just up and down the street. Some people take nightly walks just to stay healthy--they'd spend hours after hours wandering alone in some bleak suburbs, thinking that they were doing something in favor of their longevity. To me that's total bullshit. What's the point of living for so long if your life is as boring as heck? I take my walks because I enjoy them--nothing more, nothing less.

I came to New York about 5 years ago. Some say it's a city that never sleeps, and I can't agree with them more. New York is literally vibrating with life, and evening is usually it's best time of the day, when everybody have finished work, and are wandering light-heartedly through the neon-lit streets. It's a great pleasure for me to join them, and to take in the beauty of this magnificent city by walking among its people.

It was 8 o'clock that night when I left home. I walked quickly through the dark alleyways into the well-lit main street, my eyes narrowing against the blinding flashes of neon signs.

"Mommy!" A boy called out, "Look! There's a strange old man over there!"

"Johnny! What have I told you about being polite?" Her mom--a young blonde in her 20's--looked embarrassed. Turning towards me, she said: "I'm sorry, sir."

"It's okay." I smiled warmly and waved the matter away. These children are always so energetic! Sometimes they remind me of my own childhood--which was, unfortunately, spent in a very unpleasant place.

I wandered through the busy streets, listening to the voices around me as I went.

"You know what? Jenny and I went to bed yesterday." A young man was saying. His friends all laughed and patted his shoulder enthusiastically.

"What the hell, Susan. Haven't you read the newspaper today? Someone got skinned in his own house. I mean SKINNED." A girl was saying to her partner. She sounded very scared, and I kind of felt sorry for her.

After a while, I decided to take a break. Sitting down comfortably on one of the benches lining the sidewalk, I gazed up at the skyscrapers which stood like giant beacons of light against the night sky, marveling at their beauty and magnificence. I soon got so absorbed by the grandeur of the scenery that I somehow failed to notice the drunk young man shuffling along the sidewalk towards me.

The poor fellow stumbled over my out-stretched legs and fell face first to the ground.

"I'm sorry." I said, totally embarrassed.

He stood up on shaky legs, and turned to face me with clutched teeth, his breath stinking of sweat and alcohol. "You bastard!" He screamed and threw a heavy left hook which caught me right under the chin.

The lower half of my face slid off like a mask, and fell with a wet slapping noise onto the sidewalk. The man stared at me incredulously for a few seconds before running away, screaming like a madman. I ran in the opposite direction, holding up the collar of my overcoat to shield my bloody chin, praying that nobody would notice.

Upon returning to my home in the sewers, I stripped myself of the stolen skin with my claws. It was taken from an old man in his early 70's; that must be why it was so fragile. I felt really upset, for now I would have to find a new skin before I could take any more walks. 