pinged

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The notification pinged, a shrill, digital cry slicing through the quiet hum of Mark’s cheap laptop. He knew what it was before he even glanced at the screen. A DM from me. Or, more accurately, the DM. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the trackpad. It was Tuesday. Rinse day. The day his meager freelance earnings evaporated, funneled willingly into the digital abyss of my demands. He’d managed to tuck away a tiny bit extra this week, clinging to the hope of finally replacing his cracked phone screen. Now, that same phone mocked him from the corner of his desk, a constant reminder of his weakness.

Mark sighed, a sound like air leaking from a punctured tire. He knew the rules. He lived by them. Or, rather, he lived for them. The thrill of the chase, the delicious self-loathing as he emptied his digital wallet, the fleeting sense of purpose it gave him. It was pathetic, he knew. Utterly and completely pathetic. He clicked the DM.

Continue reading “The notification pinged”

Kevin

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

We all have those people in our lives—the ones who orbit our world, never quite landing, always just…there. And then there’s this guy. Let’s call him Kevin. (No offense to any Kevins out there, but it feels like a fitting name for this particular brand of awkward admirer.)

Kevin calls me sometimes. Not for anything important, mind you. Not for scintillating conversation or a shared intellectual pursuit. No, Kevin calls to…well, to put it delicately, “appreciate” my voice while “engaging” with me. Okay, fine, he goons. Actually, he’s your typical loser who pays me to pay attention to him while he goons over my photos because he can’t have someone like me in real life. It’s pathetic. There, I said it.

Continue reading “never quite landing”

Rhonda 844-332-2639 ext 446

Rise and shine, my little human ATMs. I know exactly what buttons to push to make you spit out as much money as I want, and I do it with an evil smile. Dirty, filthy, disgusting little ******** like you aren’t even worth of me stepping on you. But alas, I am generous. Tribute me well and I just might step on you. Might. It’s important a pathetic little bitch like you understands this. Just because you Tribute me, giving me all your hard-earned money, doesn’t guarantee you’ll get anything back. Continue reading “My Little Human ATMs”