Markus was facing the book as he read, fingers gliding over the raised bumps. He loved his books, and it was notable that most of his books had the same golden lettering on their spine, all from The Author. What he was reading was one of the few fantasy books he had written, and not the horror, mystery and thrillers that were more common for him.
“No thank you..”, Markus replied softly. He didn’t feel like eating. He was hungry, yes, but he didn’t feel like he should eat. He had been mistreated in many ways, so he was used to starving as a punishment. Food was for the good ones. The ones who deserved nice things. And Markus didn’t think of himself anywhere near that.
emptynarration 