He closed the front door and said happily, "Honey, I’m home!"
The apartment was dark. He turned on the light. He knew that no one was home because it was too quiet. Empty apartments are especially quiet. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he knew. He walked down the hallway, peaked into the living room and walked into the kitchen. The last remains of hope lingered. He turned on another light. There was a white folded piece of paper with cursive writing on the table. The dots on the i’s bled through the other side of the paper.
"Fuck…and I never even listened to EKV.
A Handful of Rags
His jaw was clenched. His nostrils were flared. His eyes were devouring the monitor. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. His left hand was jerking rhythmically. He timed his climax for when the first squirt hit the garter belt and the stocking, but he missed. He squinted at the scene he had missed through half-closed eyes.
"Uuugh!" He was dizzy from the relief. His head hung. The sweat above his eyebrows dripped down his eyelid. The back of his chair squeaked.
Alt + F4 erased the window on his screen. The movie now seemed stupid to him.