Cover story 34: A new plan

You join some bad people when you hit rock bottom, and yet still want to believe you have a chance at meeting someone who doesn't objectify you or tries to stop care, because that's how you got into this mess. The attempts of illegal activity really hits you when it's the only answer to finding money when you know you have no future, that's what the boyfriend thought. He tried for their sake.

Hope this ends well

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He forcibly clicked his teeth, clicked his fingers and repeated the words "I want something but what", the agitation turns to anxiety and the anxiety to aggression and as that turns again to paranoia and more anxiety he snaps sees a mouse crawling and almost like a different person first stomps on the tail, then slowly makes his way to stomping on its head before remembering it was the third day, he didn't want money this day he wanted two people dead on a platter, maybe that will quench his thirst. It's all an excuse for him to justify his tendencies and as the before him would deny and force the payment, maybe wait it off, he was only seeing red today. The man scurried his way to his mother, with broken shards of money he barely scraped by, the same money made in a way to increase in value as time goes on but decrease in in thickness to punish the rich who hoard was no punishing the same man who barely knew he was growing a lump of cancer right under all of our noses.

As he ran the lights coloring red and blue, green and white, no blacks only pink a hue mixed with the clouds about to form under the rain tonight. Malfonz on his way, but they were already gone. Slowly as the crowd of people can be seen running around having passed by Neova without notice as he laid there drunk, he kept walking as the road started to bend and turn reaching the more closed off area and as the bodies of deceased men and women can be seen piled up the sirens of an ambulance that will never show can be heard in the distance and as the rain starts falling and the landlord showed up for his tenant having traversed the land of the bodies who died of the virus the landlord held the solution too, he knocked three times no answer. He waited a minute checked the windows and knocked once more harder and with a bloodied rage, nothing no response.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

He knocked harder and harder screaming where's my money all he could see was nobody was at home, he'd lost again, again and again what will he ever do. With and itch on his neck he kept putting his nails further and further in but nothing was felt and as he turned back saw the broken shards of money piled and thrown almost didn't notice the number one red flag he missed while coming here. He pushed the door, they must be hiding.

He broke the door, he came right in and he looked searching for a mistake. He wanted blood before now all he was pathetically searching for was any resemblance of money left behind even a little would go a long way, almost looking like a homeless man begging for money he searched and searched until he gave up. He went back home and with no passion for wanting to write anything he itched and itched until he saw the same half squished mouse on the ground and as the camera pans and the view leaves the frame, then the window, then the house all that could be seen was a sillouette of a man stomping on the ground over and over with more and more glee, squeezing out the last victory he had to really be able to call it a victory worth 1,5 - 1. Fin.

1,5 - 1