prompt; empty
fandom; mystic messenger
word count; 107
The room drifted off into the void, shrouded by an eternal silence. Only the mindless crunches of teeth grinding against Honey Buddha Chips were made audible, his thoughts dull and empty.
Occasionally, the chomps were muffled by sips of Ph.D Pepper, though it didn't take very long for the munching to cease entirely, the bag and cans alike emptied out, contents swimming in his stomach.
He never planned to live long, anyway. A fleeting, productive life as a hacker, dieting off of mere chips and soda alone.
Besides, the junk food was just as empty as the meaning of life, for he had no reason to stay.
