As he was limping his way to town, was overtaken
by a laughing group of youth, he swore at them,
under his breath, as he hated able-bodied people.
He could have taken the bus to town, but liked saving
money and see his bank account grow; specially now
that his father had died and he stood to inherit quite
a lot of money. He had seen his dead father twice
first at the hospital and later at the chapel, but as he
lacked empathy, he felt no grief, only a hatred against
the world that had made him a cripple.
He liked watching dead people, they could not hurt
him or answer back, he used to go to places where
the dead were laid out, but his keen interest had been
noticed and he was barred from going there.
His world is a bleak one and ultimately powerless,
he has love for no one, only a burning a sense that life
had been unkind to him.
