Истории Existencialhorror

Gael grabbed the first shirt he found. His Arshad shirts and Aik slacks hung neatly in the closet, meticulously organized. The fabric felt soft against his bronze skin, and wearing it made him felt powerful. His shoes were worn, their soles stained with faint traces of sulfur. Gael tied the laces with a click of his tongue. He glanced at the analog watch. 6:30. In an hour and thirty minutes, the oxygen would leave his apartment, and he would die. He thought it wasn't the worst of outcomes. Considering his soul was still his. He turned on the television. The presenter announce that five presidents had decided to eat the nails of Christ on national television. Gael frowned. "Always Christ's nails," he muttered to himself.

The end that leads to another beginning