A man, roughly 5 feet 9 inches tall, slaving away at his computer. He had messy black hair and thick black rimmed glasses. He was wearing only his boxers and a bathrobe. He wasn't the most appealing person to the eyes but he wasn't a slob either. Weights and other exercise gadgets were strewn around the floor as if just after use. He suddenly paused and stared at the table.
The table is covered in memories. Moments in time too precious to throw, yet too painful to keep my eye's on them. I wiped away the lone tear that formed around my eye. I saved the file that contained my life story and headed to the kitchen to grab a mug of coffee. I lived in a very simple place. Apartment number 13 on the 13th floor of my condominium. It isn't too shabby but since most people think that the number 13 is extremely unlucky, I got the place for a bargain price. The apartment was divided into 4 rooms, A bathroom, a bedroom, kitchen and also my living room. Strangely though the biggest room is the bathroom, but at the very least it's something to talk about with people.
Well anyways when I got to the kitchen, everything seemed serene enough. I started boiling some water on the stove, grabbed my special mug and started mixing in the coffee mix. I loved my coffee a wee bit sweet so I added some condensed milk into the coffee. While waiting for the water to boil, I heard someone knock on my door. I opened the door and I saw my buddy Andrew collapse. He smelt of alcohol.
I thought to myself, I owe him enough to let him lie there for a bit. And that's where my trouble begins.
End Post 1.
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