The guy next to me is slouching, fast asleep. I know him, we worked together last summer in college, supervising exams. He would usually come an hour late, murmuring something about the tube. He, of course, doesn't remember me. Typical Philosophy postgraduate student. Male, smug, self-absorbed and unshaven, just like his mate, with whom he talks too loudly and compare gadgets. When he's not talking he's on the internet, or dosing, his laptop resting on his crouch. I bet the bastard is fully-funded, while I have to live in abandoned houses, get evicted every three months and eat my food from the rubbish. Not that I'm not enjoying it or anything.
I condole myself with the thought that he's probably the last in his line. With all the radiation going straight to his reproductive organs, offsprings seem unlikely.
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