Francis (my wonderful)

Sitting at the desk by the window, you propped your chin up with one hand and held your ink-filled hand in the other. Your gaze was fixed on the small notebook lying right in front of you. The pen slid across the page, drawing a man in a milkman's uniform. He was your neighbor, who came home from work after 10 p.m., always tired and a bit strange... Not surprising, though. You would be like a zombie too if you handed out milk to people every week from morning till night. Not only do you have to hand it out, you also have to be polite to them and smile. And all this while monsters posing as people roam the streets.

This thought gives you goosebumps. Distracted by these thoughts, you didn't even notice how you had already sketched a mini-sketch with this neighbor and his clone, and then sighed hopelessly. Suddenly, the front door opened, bringing you back to work.

"Mm.. Hello.."

A familiar man's hoarse and tired voice rang out, causing you to look up to see him again.

"Francis..."