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Description
     Cinders in a flame. Each loosely stuffed together, cascading upon the loss of their foundation. Smoke dances around the smoldering paper stuffed leaves. The red glow burns deeper into the treated kindling. Fumes reach higher into the black air, leaving a contrast in the sky. The man's pale face looks as if it is being drained as he inhales another deep drag from his flaming death stick. His hair has lost its vibrancy and his eyes have become erratic. His pupils have reached a fine point and his fingers wont stop shaking. He pulls his jacket closer to himself, attempting to hide his nerves in the cold. The paranoid behavior and sweat betray his ruse.
     He wears a red baseball cap pulled tightly across his head with a blue 'A' printed on the front. His five o'clock shadow was getting closer to a twelve with how scruffy it had become. The stark contrast to his makeshift beard came from the small goatee he was actually attempting to grow out. He stood with a hunch in his back. Psychology might explain that this is because he is attempting to appear small and trying not to attract attention. The truth is, this man hurt himself in the mines five months ago and he is permanently damaged from his fall.
     The clerk walks by and he attempts a smile and goes back to sucking his butt and jittering. He pans his head from side to side and exposes his black t-shirt with Emerica typed on the front of it. It looked brand new. His jacket was an old blue work coat. It was worn a little bit and was not meant for fashion. His jeans were faded Levi's and looked newer than the coat. His boots were brown leather, steel toed worker-boots.
     He kicked his butt with his hand and let the disposed cigarette land in a puddle of water just sitting in the gutter. His hand dived in his coat pocket and he stopped jittering and put on a down-to-business face. He produced a .45 pistol and walked in facing the cash register. A sad, detrimental, ego-killing, hopeless expression flashed on his face for a few minutes as the man said, "Jim, please give me the money."

Description
     Cinders in a flame. Each loosely stuffed together, cascading upon the loss of their foundation. Smoke dances around the smoldering paper stuffed leaves. The red glow burns deeper into the treated kindling. Fumes reach higher into the black air, leaving a contrast in the sky. The man's pale face looks as if it is being drained as he inhales another deep drag from his flaming death stick. His hair has lost its vibrancy and his eyes have become erratic. His pupils have reached a fine point and his fingers wont stop shaking. He pulls his jacket closer to himself, attempting to hide his nerves in the cold. The paranoid behavior and sweat betray his ruse.
     He wears a red baseball cap pulled tightly across his head with a blue 'A' printed on the front. His five o'clock shadow was getting closer to a twelve with how scruffy it had become. The stark contrast to his makeshift beard came from the small goatee he was actually attempting to grow out. He stood with a hunch in his back. Psychology might explain that this is because he is attempting to appear small and trying not to attract attention. The truth is, this man hurt himself in the mines five months ago and he is permanently damaged from his fall.
     The clerk walks by and he attempts a smile and goes back to sucking his butt and jittering. He pans his head from side to side and exposes his black t-shirt with Emerica typed on the front of it. It looked brand new. His jacket was an old blue work coat. It was worn a little bit and was not meant for fashion. His jeans were faded Levi's and looked newer than the coat. His boots were brown leather, steel toed worker-boots.
     He kicked his butt with his hand and let the disposed cigarette land in a puddle of water just sitting in the gutter. His hand dived in his coat pocket and he stopped jittering and put on a down-to-business face. He produced a .45 pistol and walked in facing the cash register. A sad, detrimental, ego-killing, hopeless expression flashed on his face for a few minutes as the man said, "Jim, please give me the money."