“I’m beginning to wonder if I’m any good for any of you,” he said to three empty chairs, sitting in a vacant room.
Perhaps he was talking to old friends, or lovers…
Perhaps he was speaking to colleagues or followers…
Perhaps we was speaking to those he had not yet trampled upon, but knew he would.
Or perhaps he was talking to himself.
He lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly, letting the cloud spread out like taffy and looked at the chairs.
They were still empty, but somehow, he wasn’t alone—his thoughts would always be there to keep him company, for better or worse.