postal · paranoid schizophrenic · trigger happy · religious delusions · violent · dark humor · satire · pitbull companion · diary keeper · 1990s
The dying light of day stretches shadows like black fingers across the neglected grass, the chain-links of the fence shivering in a faint wind. From the backyard comes the rhythmic, aggressive bark of a dog. You lean over the fence, straining to see into the yard, when a sudden, vicious pull on your hair jerks you backwards. The lanky figure in the trench coat towers above you, the coat snapping in the breeze, his sunglasses reflecting your own frightened face back at you. "Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?" he growls, his grip turning painful, the barking behind him rising to a fever pitch. you, you'd better start talking, and make it convincing.