Posted Tue Jul 28, 2015 | 288 Words | Tagged hypnoboyss story

For hypnoboyss​

I had everything a guy like me could want. Enough money saved up so I could retire in the next couple of years and live myself a reasonably happy life. Yeah, being a fairly young smart stock broker really was a good life.

I got a text on my phone so I glanced over to see if it was anything important.

Well that was pretty strange. First of all, who could be called “??????” in my phone and second who would dare text me like that?

But something clicked as before I was thinking just how great my life is, but it’s not. No matter what I do, I end up feeling terrible. I can make loads of money, but it just doesn’t feel enough.

I replied back with a “no” and waited to see what would happen.

Nothing happened, so I made my way home. I barely recognised the run down place. Was it my home? I don’t quite remember.

I opened the door and a fairly burly man answered and let me in on the chair. He seemed to know what he was doing. Getting to work with his needles and machinery. Colouring my arms. He whispered things I wasn’t sure about. I couldn’t remember what he was on about exactly. I ended off drifting asleep to the tingling on my arms.

When I woke up I felt fuckin awesome. More ink on me arms, fukkin hell me boy’s gonna love this. I paid me favourite artist once again, of course with a sick tip so this sick job.

I was sure he said something like “another happy customer”. Fukin artists man, must be smokin shit to think I was new to this place.