I am starting a series of very shortly written stories about a dark and crude man called David Filth and his hellish life and views. Here's the first one!
The adventure of David Filth
"So it was like this!" Said Filth.
"It all starts with my realization of the death concept when I was only seven.
After that, my days were never the same. Nights, spent in fear of deadly disease... ruin. My everyday life." He reaches for the tea that sat in front of him on the wooden table.
"So I spent a lot of time alone naturally. Had a huge disadvantage in social interaction. Now, that was something miserable." Filth slurped the tea with his eyes focused on the cup. A look communicating dominance and questioning as if the cup of tea were alive.
"I've been to hell and back. The funny thing is, if you spend a long time there, it kinda grows onto you. The dreadful but secure state of hopelessness serves as home to the weak."
This time when he sipped his tea there was a change on his face and he started gasping for air.
With his last strengths combined he uttered the words;
"Oh bullocks!"
