It was morning, and already the stairs had several kids dotted up and down the staircase. There were so many of them, but he made sure he didn’t step on them. Screaming kids were not something he wanted to be listening to for the foreseeable future. Once outside in the fresh air, he walked down the street, passing people as he made his way to the launderette. He wasn’t into wasting money on throwing out clothes and buying new when he could wash them. Also, he couldn’t get his grandparents’ teachings out of his mind. They’d owned a ranch, and while staying with them, he’d had no choice but to do everything himself, which he loved. He used to love visiting his grandparents. It was his only regret in giving into the need to fight. He ignored the appreciative gazes from passing women. Even with his bruised face, they wanted him. He’d never get women. They were too fucking strange for him, but they were useful for one thing, sex. He always had plenty of time for sex. Entering the launderette he was met with the heat of the machines.
