/lit/ - Literature

Don't want to post the whole thing because who the fuck wants to read all that shit written by some anon, so I'll just keep it short with the early paragraphs - please be as critical as you can.
__

He ran his hands along the rung of the ladder, underneath his fingers the faded paint chipped away and beneath it he could see the metal was thoroughly rusted. It hung from the top of the building to its base in the narrow alley and to test its rigidity he gripped the thing at both sides and shook it fiercely. It was much sturdier than he imagined - at least as far as he could tell, but he still feared the metal would be of a similar frailty to the paint and knowing his luck he would likely not confirm this until he was halfway through the climb; but it was freezing and he guessed that he might suffer in other ways if he didn't chance the ladder and so he did so, hanging the cord of his sleeping bag around his neck and making his way up the side of the building. He completed its length and fell gracelessly into the open window at the second story and once safe inside he reached out and shook the ladder again and decided there had been nothing to fear. The room was rotted, he guessed by the humid nature of the place and he felt as though he could smell the mildew in the damp wooden floor that did not creak as he walked but instead sunk beneath his weight, like a small layer of mud formed upon rigid earth beneath. He had no wish to explore the place. He closed the window behind him as much as the stubborn construction flaws would allow him and stayed only where the light of the night outside came through the window, too afraid to sleep in the unfamiliar dark. He lay on the floor in his sleeping bag and laid the extra warmth of a stinking tablecloth he had found near-by over him, he was too exhausted not to sleep and he fell into it without any realization.

Gravity seized his chest and he woke to the terrifying nausea of falling within a dream before he felt his body collide with the floor of the lower story, he felt his hip crack beneath the impact and the weight of his torso against his outstretched arm forced his shoulder from his socket, it was a sickening pain and as he scrambled frantically like a rodent terrified at the world’s cruel whim he felt his shoulder slide back into place, it made him retch and what little he had eaten during the day came from his throat, acidic and disgusting and it stained the floor a putrid colour of beige bile. Terrified and utterly bewildered he began to weep loudly as he surveyed this new room that looked almost identical to the one he had been in save for the gaping hole in the ceiling that he came to realize he had fallen through.

paperback for all the reasons listed above

only reason i'd buy a hardcover is to make a secret stash spot book