She couldn’t stifle a laugh, the absurdity of it all. Only a male would have the bravado to claim that their insanity was the product of their twisted soul. Oh the drama, the outright tragedy of it all. No her thoughts, will, cravings where her own doing and she would take responsibility for the blackness on herself out right than to reason it away with delusions of grandeur.
“Having no soul means I do not have to answer to some “god” or pay for my so called sins, or be judged for things others feel are sinful. No if I have a soul then it is mine and mine alone. “She spat out as she gathered her things, done being in the presence of someone she was quickly deeming to stupid for intellectual conversation.
“Have fun being something far greater than whatever you’re referring to Sir. In the end we all return to dust” she stood done for now.
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