This is another excerpt from my story called "A Dying Man". The excerpts I post are not in order and do not follow directly after one another. They are simply short, to the point ideas that I put on paper. Enjoy, and tell me what you think.

It had been days since the last pain in his gut, but David could feel the unwelcome swell of his stomach tightening his coat. He sat by himself at the bar polishing off another drink. It seemed to help keep the pain at bay.
The room was full of the common din and loud music pulsing from the DJ’s speakers. The bar he had come to since he moved into the city had become more of a club scene in the last few weeks. This too was unwelcome to him. Still, he ordered another drink. And another. And another. As it got later into the night, the crowd changed and thin. As he continued to drown himself, he could feel numbness in his stomach. The thing inside him was moving again, but he couldn’t feel the pain, only its dull shifts.
By the end of the night, when the bar had closed up, the bartender helped David to his apartment down the street. David stood at his door long after the bartender had left him there. He just stared at the faded, blue paint and the brass door handle right above the old-fashioned keyhole. He wondered if he would die soon. If this growth would eventually overtake him. If his landlord would find some bulbous, inhuman sack of flesh lying in his bed where he should have been. He wondered if the papers would declare him missing. Or maybe they would declare that the sack of flesh was in fact him. He would become something of an urban legend. A story that children told. When morning came, David didn’t remember thinking these things.