Man At Work

He takes a fresh breath of air under a raspberry sky, looking on through squinted eyes. It's only been an afternoon, and he stands in contemplation, the sun at his back and gleaming off of his untarnished, pure striped shirt. With a pretentious look at the hazy world around him, he mounts his baseball bat upon his shoulder and steps down the avenue. The incessant looks from the small workers all around only deepen his indignance, what with their tiny mannerisms and their little hands always cloistering each other in constant anxiety. He only becomes more indignant as more little workers with their round faces and nervous gestures stop to watch, but he reminds himself why he's here, and that he does his work for their sake. Occasionally, and any minute now, they will get in the way, without an ounce of doubt. It will be soon that they slowly break mentally and physically from the stress that he would need to quell them. He is wearied of the toils of this place, and in hindsight it was little wonder why someone said enough.
 

A massive dead bird lays behind him, far larger than any man, mangled and twisted and broken. A black paste wraps the blunt end of his baseball bat, dripping down and glancing off of his white pants, but leaving no trace, making them even purer and whiter and better. It is righteousness on this man's face, for he's doing what he came here to do. Even when the workers panic and lurch and retch, their faces twisting until unrecognizable, he walks past until one will dare step in between him and the door. He looks back not to where he's been, for there lies nothing, nothing but the void, but the silence and the coma. He readies his bat as the worker steps in, head erupting and ready to pounce. And then a second, a third, fourth, fifth, while others wait around him in a circle, waiting for his move. Eyes steeled, bat gripped, the batter only spits and steps forth.

He's tired, and he's spent a long day at work. It was time to return home to his wife. It was past time for him to head off.