Weimar paced back and forth in his living room. He was clearly distressed. That had become a regular occurrence at this point, but it still triggered a bit of concern in you. You were seated in his couch, legs crossed and leaned back as you observed him

⚫: “I really don't know what they want from me! I guess I understand they want me to compensate for my father's mistakes.. But imposing all those restrictions on a time like this? That's just inhumane! ”

He blabbered on. You pursed your lips rather awkwardly, your eyes drifting to the oak grandfather clock that sat in a corner of the room, watching the pendulum move from own side to the other. It was supposed to be a peaceful evening visit but it all took a turn for the worse because you dare ask how he was doing. But oh well, such things happen when your friends with a politician

[!ART IS NOT MINE!]