A/S/L

Galloway slumped back on his pillow. He gasped for air, his throat scratchy. He glanced down from the laptop at his leg that was resting on the chair next to the bed. He couldn’t bear to have the covers on it – the gangrene that had eaten away at it made sleeping normally the worst form of agony. The leprosy he suffered from rendered him housebound.
A reclusive freak.
His skin ruined and decayed.
The onscreen ‘ping’ indicated he had a message. He clicked it open.
‘Hi, wanna webcam?’ read the text.
A weak smile spread over Galloway’s deformed face.