affrontation
Everything was colourful, the flowers were a vibrant red, the grass was not dead for once. They had somehow managed to single-handedly revamp the set with their own bare hands into a wonderland, straight out of a movie.
His shirt reeked of cheap perfume, his lips swollen red. It wasn't a mystery, where he was last night. He plopped down next to her on the sofa and turned on the TV without so much as a greeting. It was always like this.
Brisk. The name of the ice tea brand. That is all.
There are times I wish I was dead, but then I thought about it again and I realized that I don't want to die. I just don't want to breathe anymore, don't want to eat anymore, don't want to talk anymore, don't want any of that. I just want to sleep forever. If that's what suicide is, then I guess I still want to die.
She woke up, brushed her teeth. 200 strokes total, no more, no less. She made sure to touch the doorknob with only her index and thumb finger and she made sure to wash her hands right after. She then made sure to go into the kitchen, 28 steps, in order to fix herself breakfast: scrambled eggs—but only the whites, and a cup of black coffee. This was her routine.
"Hey, do you smell something?" She looked away from the monitor to stare at her lover. "It smells like something is burning."
"Yeah, but what could possibly be burning? We've been playing nothing but Mariokart for the past fo—THE KRAFT DINNER." The two of them turned to face the microwave, only to see a large puff of gray smoke clouding their vision.
Oops.
It was part of who he was, he was a monster and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. She knew the truth, and so she decided it was best to kill him.
He was like a flea in a way. Small, unnoticeable on his own. But in the company of many, he was a disturbance.
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