Population: Steve

My reason is an excuse, an anti-social ism to avoid work, contributions and the aggravations of a society that cracked long ago. Lock it up in a home, give it happy pills, maybe visit at birthdays. Meanwhile, I'll be free, reading books that reaffirm my imaginative creation of a faith to knock it all down and start again; listening to music that strikes the match of my soul, since sadly she never shall; watching harmless shows that cost plenty to make but I can see for nothing, because none of us can avoid stories forever. I live as I feel.

Kyle, on the other hand, lives in the hope that he might feel. He projects himself as a full glass when really he is half-empty and in need of a mixer. His silent sarcasm suggests he sees the world with bemused contempt too, though for some reason he's willing to let himself be pushed by it as he pulls on it. Why bother? Either way it ends in gravity, six feet under, waiting at the grand bus stop of choice... maybe. Sure, we could be mates if we put energy into it, but he's wasting his and I'm saving mine.

Besides, there's Sarah. For years we've gotten closer, me providing her with the companionship her boyfriend can't be bothered to give. She's everything. Part of me always hoped we'd end up together, that she'd finally tire of her older man and we'd do more than talk. All that happened was she stopped talking to me and turned to Kyle instead. Things are changing. The world is reacting to events I never initiated. Now Sarah'll move town with old faithful or stay here and flirt with Kyle. Meanwhile, I'll have my ism and routine. This life, it feels odd.