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Mack held up the rose against the wall and smashed the nail all the way into it with one hit. He was getting better and better at making and nailing them, but so far all of them were returning home, and he wasn’t making them for that.
The wall wasn’t supposed to decorate his little home, it was a wall of pain, of shame, and most of all, a reminder that the faint blinking light in his chest was going to fade away soon.
‘No time to lose,’ he thought.
Mack propped the chair by the wall, sat in it, plugged the cable into his forearm and was immediately transported into the virtual fitting room.
The mirror appeared in front of him and Mack carefully examined his reflection. ‘Something must be missing.’ That was the only possible explanation he could find. Otherwise, he would have found someone a long time ago.
He turned his hair pink and gelled it all with spikes. Gave his boots a high platform. Picked a thick silver chain around his neck with a big silver cross dangling from it and a big pair of feathered wings on his back.
‘Now I definitely won’t get lost in the crowd.’
