- short drabble: original fiction
- December 31st, 2008
When he wants to talk, he has people he can talk to whom he calls 'friends'. When he wants to fuck, he has someone he can fuck with, whom he calls his 'girlfriend'. When he wants to be taken care of, he has his 'parents' and when he wants to feel something struggle, crumple, and fall away like a piece of paper beneath his hands, he has his 'enemies'.
'Prey' is more like it, his girlfriend says.
That makes him frown, because she spoke out of turn; she is supposed to be there to comfort him when he needs it and, more importantly, make him feel good about himself. She is not supposed to point out his weaknesses.
Not...not that those are what they are. No; its not a weakness, he just likes feeling things crumple, that's all: yes, the wind as they fall away to the ground, not to mention that delightful sound they make when they hit it for the last time. It always bring this him this sweet sort of joy to him, like it went straight out of their bodies into his hands, that life, taken by him like a gift for himself.
He's a very sensitive person, he knows. He's always been able to appreciate beauty.