The old man wandered the dishonoured farm, encapsulated by a profound sadness, fatigue engraved on his worn face. The regret grew more profound each year he spent in his decrepit, troglodytic house, the solemn walls resurrecting the god-awful memory of the losses he'd made in a previous life. He starred in the obscure mirror, lost in its unfamiliar reflection. No longer could he see that ambition, that desire, that raging fire in his eyes. All that remained was the deceiving hollow soul that reflected in the tear-stained glass, the marks leaving no room to see his true self anymore. He was just a shell of what was once a great man. This old man was a simple farmer man, also ex-head of government of the country, Gerald. In his glory days, he lost the trust of the public and was swiftly demoted before being fired. Now, he was a pathetic being of what was once acknowledged as leader. Gerald had been an endorser of narcissism, believing himself to have possessed superlat...
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