In the back of the car,
Victor runs his hands over the soft, cracked seats,
That always seem to smell like new.
His view out the window is incomplete,
Through the hazy tint,
As if he wants a hint,
Of what’s going on in the world,
But has no desire to be hurled,
In to the grime and banality,
Of what he perceives as reality.
The car leaves the steel and the concrete,
The chaos and the bustle,
Of the city behind,
And enters a suburb defined,
By it’s residents’ desire,
To separate themselves from each other.
Infinite lawns,
And hedges like fences,
Ensure that their lives are isolated,
By their own defences.
They pull up to a security gate,
And are granted entry,
By an anonymous sentry…
beautifulorange 
Oh, I love it. Perfect description of the suburbs.
Thanks muchly. It’s all about anonymity and fear :S
That was…………………..awesome! Love it.
Wow, thanks! Really appreciate it.
Very nice! Your description of the suburbs is really intriguing. I wanted to keep reading!
Thanks a lot. It’s a tiny part of a much longer story so hopefully someday you’ll get a chance to read the whole thing!
That’d be awesome!
Another excellent piece 🙂
Keep up the good work. I can’t wait to read the whole thing!
Thanks again! It’s getting there slowly…
This one may be my favorite, thus far…enjoyed reading it aloud, the rhythm and cadence flow so well. Nice work.
p.s. how was the writing conference?
Thanks again! And the retreat was perfect… basically just six of us in a big, old house in the countryside, doing nothing but writing. I actually found it really motivating to be around other writers.
I was a part of a one-day writer’s meeting once, about 5 of us sitting together on the floor that a writer in my area hosted. It was motivating, as you say, to be among other writers and I felt really alive as a writer, if that makes sense. I need to seek out more oppotunities like that, I think…I’m glad the retreat was a good one for you!