His hands were buried in his pockets as his eyes traveled from the glass walling down to the tiny cars and humans busy with their own tasks. His mother interrupted…
"I won't repeat myself again, Philip, sit down." Philip stared at the woman for some time, as if counting from one to ten before settling in the seat across from her.
"What is it? I have work to do?" He muttered as if challenging his mom.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she studied him from top to bottom, her eyes narrowing as she processed his words. "Did I just hear you say 'work'? Spare me the bullshit. What work could you possibly do on your own?" Her lips curled into a mocking smile. "You're never enough, Philip. You don't get it, do you?"
Philip rubbed his palms together before passing them on his face. He thought he had escaped this woman's anthem about him not being enough when everything was working out perfectly. Little did he know she was never satisfied.
