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The year is 2021. People are starting getting back at streets and enjoying themselves. You, different from many, already payed your taxes yesterday so you don't have the headache to wait on an endless line. Sent through the mail, got back home, took a long and hot shower, jerked off a bit post-bath and fell asleep on your own nakedess and human fragility. Now that business are opening again in Chicago, your boss fiercely demands writing many and many scandalous news about places not following health code norms. You and other remote people from your work do find some truth behind some investigations, but majority of time is just creative bullshit your hands type.
But when you find something, seat tight because that woman will force everyone to grab this as a last opportunity to breath freely.
You wake up with the sound of cars and rain outside. Nice, soothing rain almost making you go back to sleep. You get up anyway, ignoring you slept on your own mess. Who would come by this hour of the morning?
Your mobile pings. Sure. Always like that. You check and it's an audio from James.
"Hey, mate, it's me! Let me in!", you could hear his heavy accent almost disappearing on the sound of a thunder and cars behind him. "It's raining heavy and I brought breakfast! Come on, I've been pushing the intercom for five minutes!"
Oh, yeah. You forgot to mention the intercom is broken. Greedy landlord.
You go to the phone on the wall and push the button. You hear low "Thanks, bro!" on other side of the line and wish again your landlord wouldn't be so greedy.
You look around and place is quite messy. And you smell yourself and I don't need to describe the smell of shame impregnated in you.
>take a quick shower while James comes up. He sure won't mind
>get some stuff quick out of the way. Fuck the bath I got no time
>he knows the place and know my mess, fuck him
