Steven recoiled as he read these words on the wall in front of him.
“Life was fun”
Life had been fun for Steven. It was true that life had been fun. But now that wasn’t the part that upset him. It was the idea that it could no longer be fun. That life had been fun once but that time was now at an end.
But that was the situation that Steven now found himself in. It wasn’t the sign’s fault. The sign was merely stating fact. The sign was presumably talking about someone else. And yet it seemed so relevant to him.
Life had used to be fun. People had used to call him Steve. He had used to ride a motorbike. But he couldn’t buy one now. Now it would be so middle aged. But what had made people start calling him Steven. That was where the change had come. That was the change and he resented the hell out of it.
Steven was his father’s name. Not his. People should know that. But… And yet… He couldn’t tell them. He couldn’t explain why he wanted to demand to them that they saw him as young. All he could do is hope. Hope and be annoyed.