Charlie Ballew

Dr. Jones

<Title Goes Here>

Sean Nobles had simply never much liked people.

It wasn't exactly a flaw in his character. The feeling was not of the sort that begin with one horror or another during the formative years of childhood that later blooms into a nightmare that lurks in the back of your mind through your adult years, only eventually coming to a head while you're lying prone on some psychiatrist's couch, being charged a ridiculous amount of money for the privilege of being there in the company of an old man who will nod his head and "yes, yes" and "mmhmm" every once in a while as you vaguely wander over your memories, only to eventually make some obtuse speculation on the nature of your relationship with your mother. Sean Nobles carried no luggage, repressed no dark memories and, if searched, a thorough examination of his closet would yield no skeletons, not even a fragment of a tibia or a bit of femur.

More than anything, it was a lack of interest in other people, one that had begun on his  very first day, when he was pulled from his mother into a bright new world. Instead of kicking, fussing and crying, all proper things for a baby to do in these kind of situations, he had simply sat in the doctor's hands, peering back at the bemused medical practitioner with a look of quiet speculation. Sean Nobles had looked the doctor up and down before making an expression that clearly said, "what's the big deal?" Even the traditional smack to rear failed to elicit more than a single surprised yelp.