Wednesday was groceries’ day. At some point in the long past, there was a particular reason for him to pick that day — and only that day — for buying his weekly essentials, though he no longer remembered it. Wednesdays just felt right. They had a laxness to them: neither…

“I wish I was loved.” His fingers hovered on the keyboard. Tits. His eyes gazed upon two glorious breasts. He moved the mouse cursor over the “size” option, clicked the dropdown menu, and hovered over the many available options: C, double-C, D-, double-D, E, double-E, F, double-F. The standard was…