Effictive Imagery #6

       It was dusk, the light was dissolving behind the apex of the bluff. There he sat gazing at me outside his wooden cabin in a rigged chair. His vacant expression on his face stated he was alone and abandoned. His beret fell over his face like it was part of his figure. In his right hand he held a cigarette that puffed out smoke. Wrinkles covered his face from forehead to chin, He was as dull as a blank canvas. His eyes were like a cobra, glaring at his surroundings with patience, not moving a muscle waiting to pounce at a sudden movement. He had an ash grey mustache under his aged nose. A soft grown came from the man like a bear with an upset stomach. He exhaled, and with his last breathe he muttered the words,"Mona, I'm coming."