Exit.

This is actually something I wrote ages and ages ago and I think it fits into the idea of 'mood writing' but basically it's a song song story I wrote for the U2 song, Exit. All lyrics belong to U2, this is not meant to be plagiaristic, I was simply very inspired by the song and the genius of its 'murkiness' if that makes any sense in the way it was written and how the music creates such a mood... 

A bulky silhouette made its way up the steep hill. 

The man could not go to sleep due to a pounding headache and a creaking conscience, he'd decided to climb above the city, try to escape his hellish nightmares. The setting sun was blazing blood red, a dog barked in the little suburban city below the hill, the sound was eerie, like a human crying over a broken heart. 

The warm summer breeze turned into a howl dueting the dog's mournful cries. Suddenly the wind died, almost as quickly as it had come; leaving the solitary shadow of a lonely, loveless man standing on the rise; watching the sun go to sleep… The shiny pinpricks of stars started to appear, the sky like a massive black board with nails puncturing it every now and then.  The man was about to leave when he stopped in his tracks, plunged his hand in his pants pocket and seemed to wait. His heart pounding in his ears he could hear a little voice, his injured conscience, above the roar… 

You can't do it… you haven't got the nerve to pull it off, you know you could never take a life…

His sweating hand that had caressed the hard steel of a small, and loaded pistol, slithered out of his pocket, and behind his back. Out of danger.