: Does the narrator sound childish? I really apologize, this is something that just came to my mind (and while sitting on the toilet). There's no editing. The reason is, I'll remove the whole

@Goswami879

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I really apologize, this is something that just came to my mind (and while sitting on the toilet). There's no editing. The reason is, I'll remove the whole passage if the protagonist sounds childish. It's an experiment so I'm not really sure of the result. Harsh comments are welcomed.

Ming had two hours left sitting in that cafe. His girlfriend, Ai-Ling,
would be back around five. He hoped. If everything went fine. It was a
long time but Ming was good at waiting. In fact, that was one of his
most prominent skills. He could do it for hours. He would read a book,
write on his laptop, or if he didn't carry any of that he would gaze
out of the window and do his typical exercise.

He would stare at people and wonder what they'll do if, while walking,
suddenly realized they were naked. He had no idea how the thought
first came to him. And it hadn't started as a perverted fantasy while
watching a passing lady or anything like that. Nor it was out of
malice or because he liked to make fun of people. In fact, he would
have felt better if he didn't had such strange thoughts. The thought
just came to him almost as abrupt as a thunder from the sky. And from
that day it stuck to him like a little cold the couldn't get rid off.

So that was what he did. The first victim was an old business man who was tying his shoes at
the entrance of the subway. He had a pregnant-women belly size and no
hair except inside his ears. After loosing his clothes Ming pictured
him running around the street, his bald glimmering under the sun, his
fat tissue bobbing, screaming off his lungs to catch a cab. All the
while wondering where is his lather shoes and his two-hundred dollars
suit. Next he pictured a girl—blonde dyed hair, thick eyelashes—who
could as well been a model hiding in the bushes of the park. And stay
there until the sun melted from the sky. Not because she's afraid of
being seen naked but because she is somehow aware that her left breast
is slightly bigger that the right one.

Lastly, he imagined a school kid passing on the sidewalk, a huge
backpack on hick back, licking an ice cream (just as the other two, it
was random. Ming was no pedophile). Realizing he had no clothes the
kid continued licking his ice cream while wondering if some sort of
magic spell had produced this. Or whether his mom had actually
forgotten to wash his clothes. She was kind of forgetful after all. He
then finished his ice cream and walked away.

You can really tell people by how they react while naked, he though as
if musing about a deep philosophical question. You can totally tell.

Ai-Ling arrived a half past five. She dangled from the window of the
coffee shop and after glancing around for a while she finally spotted
Ming. She then walked over and sank on the wooden seat with a big
sigh. Her long black hair was slightly damp and her silky white skin
glittering from the sun that poured from the window. She looked
exhausted, as if she'd been running in a marathon.

"Sorry," she said, still panting. "It took me longer that I imagined.
That exam had more than forty pages."

"That's all right."

"What you been doing?"

"Nothing," I said. "Just picturing people naked."

Ai-Ling wiped her forehead. "Good."

(God, posting a first draft feels like being seen naked).

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