Deathcon7

In that moment of contrast grew a sense of understanding. Seventeen and full of vigor he had sought adventure and London held it aplenty. Now, so many years later, he was lost and adrift. Separated from his path, vomited onto the lap of a stranger, aborted from his true self and abandoned, a burden to be cleansed and rid of. He was disgusted. He quickly stripped off his pants, jumping out of them and kicking them across the room. He tried to expel the thought. He envisioned it floating, bouncing gently off the walls of his mind, a bubble encapsulating the thought. He pictured it dimpling under the sharp point of a needle. The bubble popped,