He detested crowds, the sounds of people talking or children laughing, the sounds of life that reminded him that his was not yet over.Agoraphobia, som... might call it. An unreasonable fear of being in public. Others might call it misanthropy. John simply called it, "hatred of the human race."Why he didn't just commit suicide and end the nightmare, he didn't know. It had been ten years, after all, since his life had essentially come to an end. Now he had nothing left, no reason to go on living. Brinson continued her conversation she turned her head and saw what was happening. i was now rubbing myself and my eyes were fixed on her crotch. she did nothing to change her position. sitting there her legs still spread mrs. brinson began to run her hands over her legs from upper thigh to her knees. finally someone said something. "you like looking at my legs don't you? i know you do because i've noticed you looking at them. that's alright, i really don't mind. i'm flattered." mrs.. More

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