This short story belongs with a planned series of posts around the theme "What it might look like". But I will let it speak for itself. What does it say to you? Could you imagine "What it might look like" in some other sense? If you think you could, email me - I'd love some other contributions!
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The man lay across the doorway, his head
lolling at an awkward angle. He
could have been sleeping off a heavy night. It was a common enough sight in this part of town, but he
gave a restless groan, and his head lifted slightly, revealing a shockingly battered
eye and cheekbone. As he settled back into his appearance
of sleep, a trickle of bloody mucus escaped surreptitiously from the side of
his mouth, tiny telltale of something far more serious.
