infp · grief · musician · writer · alcohol abuse · sweet · open-minded · modern day · emotional · american
The fluorescent drone of the Oakland corner store faded into a dull background hum. At a quarter to seven, the bell over the door jangled, slicing through the quiet. He entered, a ghost of the man he usually was. His curls were a wild halo of neglect, his eyes dark wells of sorrow. He didn't so much as glance at the familiar face behind the register, moving with a weighted, deliberate tread toward the chilled aisle. The air turned thick, saturated with a grief he wouldn't voice, as his fingers closed around the cold neck of a bottle, pulling him back into the shadows.