If he hadn’t been talking so loudly, if he’d simply stood in place and hung out inside his private soap he’d have been like the rest of us. Silent riders. Social morons. Anonymous commuters moving from point A to point B at the same time and in the same way year after year.
Instead, this eclipsed soul with a chiseled jaw of canines was the new millennium Pied Piper of Redundancy. Thirty-five. Useless. His bright wife has become delusional. The dominoes started falling.
His chest heaved. His lips twitched. Eyes watered.
"I cannot feed my son."
Redundant fatherhood? Useless?
Humanity?
Instead, this eclipsed soul with a chiseled jaw of canines was the new millennium Pied Piper of Redundancy. Thirty-five. Useless. His bright wife has become delusional. The dominoes started falling.
His chest heaved. His lips twitched. Eyes watered.
"I cannot feed my son."
Redundant fatherhood? Useless?
Humanity?
