Short story-poem retarded fish baby...

Anyway this is a short story I wrote, it’s more stream of consciousness if anything but it's some kind of retarded fish baby of a short story and a poem...

I still haven't thought of a name for it though...

It was nine in the evening, the weather thin and seething as we walked the streets with no aim we came across fork after fork after fork in the road, each with their own problems and faults, each with their own questions often unanswerable. I was not frustrated, I was quite content for no matter which way we went I always thought we'd be together in the end.

The streets seemed to wind on forever, forever illuminated by the ever harsh street lamp. We were contended so much we did not see nor suspect the sun rising so early shining a ghastly hue that the harsh streetlights could never simulate. We awoke to a man smiling he greeted us with a heavy "good afternoon" he made sure we were well hydrated his laughter felt like a banshees scream on my already beating head. We both felt as old as him but not as mature I think all three of us knew that much as we left with a polite thanks and a handshake and as he told us he envied us...

We came accros many more forks in the road but this time we knew which way to go knowing always that the road'd end sometime soon. Heavy witht personal burden but still contented we went all the right ways will we reached the end, it felt so good the neutral want as side by side we fell back to sleep knowing where we'd wake up and with whom. When we awoke melancholia filled the air and as much as we'd enjoy to be by eachothers side we each had our own fights, our burdens...

We left and saw eachother time and time again but never like those two nights arguably the best in our lives, now I never feel the same again, when I feel the cold icy touch of another or hear their whispers longing in my ears... doubtful I wonder if she feels the same... or rather, if she'd be the same knowing how I felt...