1.3 Opposite of empathy wanker

Sean was a fucker from the start, though he more often meddled in masturbation.

One Friday evening he lay on the bed in his bed-sit, with his pants down. He lit a cigarette, took another sip of the cheap red wine and basked in the warm glow of a bare bulb. Ash gathered in his navel.

Suddenly boring of his penis he introduced his inebriation to the night.

He stepped out of rotting Georgian building and onto the crumbling steps with his zip inadvertly open. The oversized door echoed in the square as it shut. Sean loved the noise. He turned, looked up at the clear spring sky and cried out, “you know Joe” – like he was god – “adventure SHOULD find the single man in this lonely city”.   

Thoughts on city living Sean never had: https://pointlessoverthinking.com/


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