Torture Dressed Like Therapy 2: Testing the Limits

A year, maybe two. Glen had quickly grown tired of his life hooked up to a canister. Klestofer stopped visiting him after a few months, leaving him alone most days. Sometimes therapists came in and asked him questions. He would anawer truthfully, but they never did anything about his dark thoughts.

He often wished he would just pop. Or deflate. Or fall asleep and never wake up. 

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