His face can’t contain his anger – it strains and twists and flexes, a nightmare of sinewed spleen. Pop… A trickle seeps from one nostril, pitter-patters on the desk. He blinks blood-shot eyes, blistered and blurred through pink-tinged tears.
He doesn’t notice when his fingers start to bleed, worn away with hate on antisocial media, staining the letters red and muddy brown. He doesn’t stop to ease the pain when flesh gives way to bone, and thump, thump, thump becomes click, click, clack.
Why won’t they listen? Donald guffaws in disbelief. Hate spits from his lips onto the screen, glistening red, blue and green.
How are they so blind?
Submitted to a Flash Fiction competition – 150 words, taking the themes of man versus society and obsession as inspiration.