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21
Richard. “What do you think you’re doing?” Raymond yells. “Richard.” Is he blind? Does he not see that I’m busy f*****g a w***e? “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Wait outside, Raymond. I need to take my bath.” I dismiss him and gesture towards the girl crying in the corner of the bed. “And you,” I point to her, “I don’t want to see you in here again when I come out.” I slam the door behind me as I step into the bathroom. No matter what I do, I never seem to be satisfied. There’s always a sense of something missing within me. I lean against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The hollow eyes staring back at me only deepen my despair. Despite the fleeting pleasures, there’s an emptiness that gnaws at my soul, a void that no amount of indulgence can fill. Is it because o
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