Trey was laughing to himself. A gleeful laugh that verged on manic. It was shrill like that of a child squealing as its fleshy thighs are pinched hard by an unremitting elderly relative with their saccharine smiles and even sicklier sweetened breath, but at the same time it was dry like the wind scouring over old, dead trees that had fallen at the edge of a dessert as the forests slowly retreated and gave way to the scouring sands and blazing heat.

It was a self satisfied laugh.

Trey was reading the news online.

A casual observer would have noted that the story being read was not a human interest story about some delightfully large and retarded cross eyed kitten competition, nor indeed anything to do with cats and their woefully abhorrent grasp of things such as grammar or correct spelling and punctuation.

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