Not In A Million Years

He is as human as they come, these days. Most people mod themselves beyond all recognition; it’s expected. If you can’t breathe underwater or do calculus in your head while reciting Shakespeare you’re a ‘Norm’ and not to be bothered with. The women at the office where he works snicker to each other after he passes by. They don’t bother to wait until he’s out of earshot. Not a one would give him the time of day, much less a date.

He wants them, in spite of himself. Not any one in particular: they’re all exactly the same, interchangeably perfect.

***
Title by: Death2Nostalgia
Story by: David

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Undo

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