Klothes. The dirt on the floor. The cigarettes everywhere.
The smell. Oh the smell. The beast was living here. Like a bug. Like a goat. It hurts the nose and the eyes. Oh this smell.
The bottles of Klothes next to him.
He looked at his friend. A smile craving for the precious paper.
Give me 20 he said.
Give me 40 he said.
Always asking for more.
He looked tired. His smell was worse than the smell of the living room.
"Why are you not taking a shower.. ?" Mark asked the chubby beast.
A chuckle was heard. The words pronounced, or more likely groaned where "I don't want to use more water. I have to keep my money for.. You know."
Mark looked a bit confused.
"You can't keep buying this! You need to go to work! Are you insane?"
Silence.
