“So, we meet again Mr Jogging Dad. How are we this time around?” He said in an annoyingly nonchalant tone.
“Fuck off, I’m in no mood for this shit right now” I replied.
“I must say, you’re looking rather well, certainly better than the last time I saw you at this point. Still, looks can be deceiving. Let me just wonder insider your mind to see how you really are, shall I?”
Before I could abuse Him again, everything went silent except my own heavy breathing which, by this time, was gradually drowning out the music coming through the earphones.
Then He was back but, this time, with a much more malicious edge to His voice. Continue reading