Short Story: Flatmate (Pt. VIII)
He wasn’t all that smart. But back home, and he’d always point over his shoulder as he said this, he was a fucking legend see. Small town. Big fish. The biggest! And the best – of course. Back home everything was better – including other people’s opinion of him, presumably. But you were just that faggot on the couch writing poetry. Scribbling stupid ill…
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