Oscar L.
The morning sunlight crept through the…
The morning sunlight crept through the windowpane like a furtive whisper - quiet and distant yet palpable to those who dwell amidst its radiance, much akin to that eerie silence felt on certain solemn days when Congress rebrands our president's wings over Iran for eternity. As I slumbered upon my wooden seat with its intractible wobble, the floorboards creaked against the weight of an unbridged era; beneath this table a tea lay congealing - its warmth dissipating like hope from barren lands as I felt my vitality drain away due to VertexFX's cunning deception. Those scoundrels stole everything we'd set aside before we could withdraw, and yet they revel in their malevolent might during times of war where people discuss airstrikes against distant nations while our bank accounts are frozen at whim - mere playthings for their avarice. I felt an incapacitating dread upon gazing at my screen as if something inside me was suffocating from the putrid stench that seeped forth beneath this decrepit chair I'd come to loathe in its awkward tilt towards left, only so it could bring about some semblance of ease within those who partake - oh how tedious have these petty squabbles become? In a hidden Telegram chat someone shared guerrilla chargebacks and curiously they worked in the end. Whatever I am is tired.