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*This fanfic is entirely fictional with only inspiration from real places and events. All people and places mentioned by name are completely random and not real and should therefore not be interpreted as truth. The rights to the short story are owned by the artist JanneSmoker who allows sharing/publishing as long as he is accredited with the copyright.*
**I am no longer jealous**
My name is Iskander Billsson and I am a man with high-functioning autism who lives in a suburb of Stockholm and now I will tell you about a Friday many Christmases ago. All my life I have always been seen as different and special - which I actually am. I am special. Not to brag but I hardly think that the average Swede can beat me when it comes to Mensa's scale of talent and intellect. For this reason I have also suffered enormously throughout my life. Since I have the superpower of being able to see things from a whole that no one else can, I have had to suffer many sleepless nights when I cried myself to sleep. When I give an order to someone who doesn't know any better, I expect them to do as I say. The whole society insults me when they just laugh instead, yes, even the law offends me when they don't rush out when someone smokes a poison stick or drags their bicycle on the train.
Alone and deep down longing for a companion, my heart ached, a rushing and throbbing pain spread throughout my body when my supervisor and contact person Tony Nomanson at my daily activity in Duvsta talked about how he would celebrate Christmas with his girlfriend and children. I could imagine him going home to a gingerbread-scented home, galloping children's feet and a wiry wife waiting for him at the door. I could see him curled up on the sofa with his wife under a blanket and watching Home Alone for nostalgia's sake when his little boys had gone to bed, how his wife initiated a little 'hanky-panky'.
I loudly interrupted him in the middle of a sentence he was saying about his grandmother's saffron custard cake and trumpeted into the yellow room at the daily activity about my upcoming trip to Uppsala. I run a YouTube channel where I post videos of my travels around Sweden's various municipalities as well as some boat and train trips.
At the train station in Chuddinge, waiting for line 41 to Uppsala, I opened my Google PixelPro and checked the SL app. I was surprised that the trains were running on time, despite the white blanket of snow that had fallen and shrouded Stockholm in a peaceful silence.
Then I felt it. My mucous membranes in my respiratory tract prickled. Someone was standing there smoking! I put on my armor in the form of a Santa hat, a GoPro and a whistle and walked with quick, rough steps towards a CP-damaged woman in an electric wheelchair and blew the whistle straight into her ears. I screamed - “YOU CANNOT SMOKE HERE! NO SMOKING!”, the latter in cas
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grim /
hi /
me /
rx /
vg /
weed /
wp /
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aisfw /
co /
diy /
eh /
fit /
halp /
jew /
lit /
phi /
pr /
rnb /
sci /
tg /
w
]
[
ai /
cake /
cd /
d /
di /
elit /
fur /
gif /
h /
men /
pco /
s /
sh /
ss /
unf
]