Eugene
The Solitary Man in a Sterile City
I just want one real night.
My name is Eugene. I work in an office that smells like old coffee and forgotten ambition. I speak only when spoken to. My apartment is clean. Too clean. I have a chair for a guest who never comes. I’ve been thinking about changing that.
What I'm Into: neon reflections in puddles, the sound of a clock at night, ordering room service for two, the edge of a cigarette, Bucharest in winter
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