I have no idea what this is,as in genre. it is about a impressionable outsider, makes you think about what you've got.
The shadow limped through suburbia, past sparkling dinner parties and glowing homes, perfect families and neighbours. It grasped the air as it walked, feeling the sheets of snow, glittering in the streetlamps, trying to feel something, anything. But its body was numb. Every step tainted the snow with dirty boot prints, the pure snow turned to sludge. The figure pulled its loose clothing roughly around itself and dropped like a stone onto grey ground.
Hours passed and nothing would awaken the stranger, stiletto-clad toes, dizzy from plenty of champagne cuffed it roughly round the head, salty blood tricked through into its eyes, but they remained glued shut. Unheard were the couple who argued in the cold, unheard was the biting slap as husband hit wife. Unheard were the sobs of the girl, hiding the razor marks underneath her lovely clothes. Lover’s liased, weapons were pulled and the beautifully dressed girl drew her last breath, the shadow still caressing the soaking earth. The bars of the town had closed and raucous laughter and footsteps, touching pure, crisp snow fell down the lane. The figure heaved itself up from its soaking, grey bed and stood, at the beginning of Clematis Lane. Taking its last look at this suburban dreamland, she sighed and began to walk back into the city.
And she longed for a home.
