This morning seemed to drag on and never picked up. Alois had awoken to a usually distant Claude, gotten dressed, gotten out of bed, made his way to breakfast, ate the same thing as yesterday, complained and thrown the plate in Hannah’s face, walked off in a storm to his “office…” all so routine. It was starting to depress him, really. He’d never reached the office. He ended up wandering the hallways, looking for something of some interest. Something had to change at some point, right?
Wrong. Boring as ever. He kicked his boots on the carpet as he walked, wondering if he tripped and smashed his head open like a pumpkin, would Claude be sad or make “one hell of a meal” out of his bloodied soul? It was the kind of question that killed time but also some of his confidence. He still lingered.
Wasn’t anything going to happen today? Routine was boring, boring, boring!
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