Richard was sat down on a wooden stool opposite his desk. His fingers were clicking away at his typewriter, thoughts going at a hundred and twenty miles per hour as he continued his draft.

It was an article about a mysterious strong of kidnapping in the local erea, so he finally had something interesting to write about rather than some article for an ad in some cheap magazine. He loved his work, he was fully engulfed in his work.

Richard cared too much about his work. He valued it over everything else in his life, even his fiancé, Dolly. Dolly and him, it was complicated. Richard liked men, he knew that now. But he was stuck getting married to Dolly after she was pregnant. He could stick it out, he thought.

Richard didn't have the time to worry about his impending fatherhood and overcoming his internalised homophobia now that he had all these writing opportunities. As soon as she had his child, he was stuck. Richard knew that much.

Maybe he could write some fictionalised anecdotes for parenthood magazines after the newborn arrived. Richard looked down at the keys of his typewriter; his engagement ring was annoying him, as it knocked the other letters when he typed on it.

Richard slid the ring off of his finger, placing it onto the oak desk. Richard couldn't care less about the significance of the wedding ring — his writing was more important. He knew Dolly still hadnt taken her ring off, ever since their wedding day.

He took a deep breath, holding his chin up with his palm as he one-handedly continued typing on the typewriter. The topic of these mysterious disappearances were so interesting to write about. Four pregnant women all went missing in two months. Without a trace.

Richard turned his head when he hears the latch to his study door open. He could smell dinner, Dolly had probably made him something. "Dolly?" he said. The door further creaked open, it was her.

"I'm busy. Really busy, I'm writing this article about.." Richard trailed off. "Anyways. Dolly, honey, I'm busy. Can't talk." he reiterated.