He just sat there.
And he waited.
One, two, three, four, and then five days went by, and he hardly moved. Every day I took a walk, every day I saw him, and every day he sat on an old crooked wooden bench, a bottle of booze in hand and a gloomy expression crossed his face.
The bench sat across my house, and most of the time when I peered out the blinds of my windows he was still there. Every once in a while he'd leave, which told me he was actually alive, but for the most part, he stayed planted on that unstable bench, and I'm pretty sure that the bottle of booze he held didn't actually have any booze in it.
Every time I looked at hi
hey guys, my name is momo22, i'm just a guy who plans to be a game designer... in the meantime ill be making cool art, using modern designing programs, such as Photoshop, Unity3d, and other stuff... hope u like my art!
Favourite Visual Artist
still haven't got one :/
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Linkin Park, The Script, Bruno Mars, Muse...
Favourite Books
Anything that has Tom Clancey on the cover, A Tale Of Two Cities...