Free Collected Kill: Volume 2 by Patrick Kill Page A

I’ll be leaving early.”
    A bead of sweat rolled down Mr. Langford’s cheek.  His mind spun, his eyelid twitched.   Deep breath.  Slow, deep breath.
    He closed his eyes and exhaled.  Reopening them, he focused on Mr. Carlson hovering over him, his face fiery red.  
    “You’re fired, Langford.  Pack up your things and get the hell out of my office!”
    Three steps out into the parking garage, Mr. Langford noticed an older gentleman in a blue suit pacing in front of his car.  Suddenly he remembered the gas line leak he had neglected to get repaired as the man flicked his cigarette on the pavement.  
    A trail of fire worked its way under the car.  Mr. Langford watched the fiery ball expand as his car exploded.  He quickly ducked as the older gentleman’s body blew past him, bouncing off a concrete support beam. Shrapnel from the blast veered off other cars, cracking windshields, denting frames and chipping paint.  His car’s antenna shot out, piercing him in the ass.  Mr. Langford quickly dropped his belongings, and pulled the wiry piece out.  He suddenly felt a strange sense of numbness spreading from his bloody cheek to his emotions.  He felt oddly cold.
    The day had gone from bad to worse.  His regular monotonous schedule, which rarely yielded any such deviations from the norm, had turned horribly different and he found himself fearing the unknown.  He was no longer comfortably at ease with himself nor anything around him as a restless discontent threatened to surface.  He fought off the coming mood, trying to forget about the day’s trials and focus onto better things.
    But the odd feeling persisted as he trudged through the crowded street on his way home.  He looked toward the sky to refresh himself, but could only see the mammoth stone buildings bobbing in an ocean of asphalt.  The towers loomed over him, shadowing sunlight.  Exhaust from cars drifted, stinging his nose.  People on the sidewalk ran into him, shoving him aside.
    “It is a gift to be one of the living, to be one of God’s children living in His glorious creation,” he recited.  A surge of energy rejuvenated him, a smile slid across his face.
    Passing the business district, he walked several blocks to a side street filled with houses with white picket fences.  He looked to the sky and saw white cumulus clouds speckling blue skies.  
    Tomorrow will be a better day , he thought, rejoicing, Just draw from the good each day has to offer and look forward to the next.
    He held his head high and walked steadily until a tiny dog hurdled a nearby fence and latched onto his crotch.  Pain jolted through his midsection as the dog tugged and shook its head wildly, tearing his pants.  Mr. Langford managed to pry its jaws from his manhood and toss it aside.  The dog slid on the sidewalk and scampered toward him for another attack.  
    Without a thought, Mr. Langford punted the miniature dog back over the fence.  The dog flailed helplessly through the air until it smacked the side of the house and fell limply to the ground.
    “Oh my God, what have I done?”
    Mr. Langford quickly walked away from the scene.
    Dazed, he continued staring at the sky while asking God to forgive his actions.  He prayed for God to mend the day and make it better.
    Up ahead, he watched two young boys with a beebee gun, aiming at birds on a power line.
    “Stop!” Mr. Langford yelled, approaching the children.  He finally felt that God had answered his prayer, giving him a chance at retribution.  “Animals are our friends.”  He looked directly above him and pointed to several birds on the line.  He wanted to convince them not to harm the birds, knowing one day they would regret their ignorant actions.  “Birds are God’s creation, like yourself, and should be allowed to share this wonderful planet.”
    The two boys looked strangely at one another and shook their heads.
    As Mr. Langford continued his speech, he felt the gentle splatter of bird