It became their routine. And so the evenings stretched out before him: still, gray, and gravel-strewn.
His sartorial attempt to blend in with the concrete did little to assuage the tension.
Everyone always leaves.
The things that once so defined him — shag carpeting, Room & Board sofas, monogamy — now suffocated him.
Even in your company, I feel so alone.
He is sad because his house looks like an elementary school. And all the children have died.
And, just a random duck face for your pleasure.
More Unhappy Hipsters founds here.
Have a nice week! xx