From @CruciFire:
“NOOOOOOOOOOO…”
His voice trailed off as he got pulled into the abyss.
“SOMEONE HELP ME…”
Dirty face. Muddy hands. Scraped knees.
Unable to breathe, he tried to stand up.
*1 message received*
“Wanna catch up over a drink?”
Edge of a cliff. Warm sunshine. Morning breeze.
“Dude, you have *no* idea how bored I was!”
From @DNRamki:
He had established a routine. He’d wake up, check Twitter, and head off to work. Ideas would appear in his head, but often went unheeded.
Late in the night, he’d sit in the darkness, gather those ideas, sift through them, and pen down 55 words.
One day, he woke up, and the words had stopped.
From @_ankitachauhan:
'Reading and always reading, don’t you ever get bored? If I were you I would have already died of ennui.’ Her perplexing eyes triggered a question at him.
‘Have you ever dealt with the waves of hollowness inside you? I just want to crack that silhouette of monotonous life.’ And he teetered over to bookshelves.
From @oink1729:
Ennui as wide as the manicured lawn. The blue sky locked onto the high walls of Wrongflop mansions, the silence indoors, the ivory chess pieces catching the sun, the fountains endlessly recycling their water. Days defined only by waking and sleeping. Those kind of empty days. And still no news from London! What had happened?
From @oink1729:
Ennui as wide as the manicured lawn. The blue sky locked onto the high walls of Wrongflop mansions, the silence indoors, the ivory chess pieces catching the sun, the fountains endlessly recycling their water. Days defined only by waking and sleeping. Those kind of empty days. And still no news from London! What had happened?
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