Letter Box Face

The man sat heavily in the chair a small letterbox of light from the broken blind cut across his scarred right cheek. He felt empty. His crisp pinstripe suit crumpled as he leant forward, his thought rewinding to the altercation. He picked up the discarded match from the floor to ease the repetitive itch on the inside of his right ear.He examined the waxy fallout and flicked it on to the dusty blind. His muscles ached for sleep. He pulled the frayed end of the rope, the blind clattered upward revealing his reflection .He let out a startled laugh ,his dry mouth cracked slightly and more blood joined the deep cut on his lip. His tired hollow image starred back ,his two gold front teeth reflecting the red of the neon and the grafted indentations of his face belied his age. He wanted to stop now .