Apart from a generally homicidal day, late in the evening I found Syd in my office. He was sitting on my chair and had a frown on his face. When I came closer I realized that he was panting as if he had just walked up 10 storey flight of stairs. A drop of sweat was running down his temple. His eyes stared blankly through the oblivious pixels on my computer monitor.

What the fuck? Weren’t you a chirpy lad a few hours ago?”, I began the somewhat lame conversation with a provocation.

He just sat there in silence. I reached out a pack of Pall Mall’s from his shirt pocket and lighted up a menthol cigarette.

I don’t think I’ll be having dinner tonight. I wanna go on a diet”, he replied, lethargically after a few seconds.

Huh?!” I then noticed that he was holding a nail clipper in his right hand.

He then slowly turned his head towards me, face still with a frown as if it was begging for a nice, tight slap.

When we were eye to eye, he uttered, “I’m having a hard time bending down to clip my toe nails.

He then lifted his shirt and continued, “I had to unbutton and unzip my trousers halfway to do so.

Minty smoke continued to flock the nearly deserted office space.