London Diary (2)

‘M’ had enough, so he switched off his phone. Enough of the lies, enough of the sulking around in the background. All he wanted was something normal, without any hang-ups, but as always he realised, there was always hang-ups involved, no matter how simple you try to make it. And that was the problem, no matter how well adjusted a person might seem, there was always something beneath the surface, that glossy outlook on the world that when scratched would unleash the complexities of the soul.

A cup of coffee was needed, hell if he had not been tee-total all of these years, a drink would have sufficed. After that accident, he realised he needed help. ‘M’ managed to turn his life around, but why couldn’t she? Was it really that hard to see the self destructive path that he had set herself on? The kettle boiled, and he quickly poured a cup. He despised coffee, but it was ‘something’ to put down his throat. The hot liquid burnt his lips, but somehow that no longer mattered anymore…

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