Rage

It's morning breakfast rush, nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. He walks down from his cube over to the canteen, like he does every morning, ready for the minor, insignificant, yet infuriating slight that invariably occurs due to the hateful combination of obliviousness and entitlement of people in general. The goal: to get a bagel and toast it and get out without any kind of interaction that would make him want to kill someone else. The result? Fail. He acquires his bagel. He moves to the toaster. Both are occupied. So he waits. Patiently, until one is free. As he starts to move forward, someone steps in front of him, steals his place. Inside him a nuclear bomb goes off. The person apparently had a moment of clarity, actualization, sentience and inquires, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I jump in front of you"? To which He replies "Yes, you did. It's fine." Attempting to keep up the ruse of tolerance. His expression is stoic. Inside he is a boiling cauldron of hate and destruction. He is not meant for human interaction. He has no time or desire to suffer these fools. In his head, he imagines a different world...

"Yeah, you moved in front of me. Fortunately for you, I'm in a decent mood today. See, none of you motherfuckers mean enough to me to worry about. The ONLY reason I don't murder each and every single one of you is because I don't want to have to spend the rest of my days in prison because I extinguished your worthless, miserable existence. THAT is how much I value your life. So yeah, the fact that you moved in front of me is infinitely insignificant. I've already caved in your skull in my head five different times with five different weapons, all of which are currently within my reach."

This is how he keeps his sanity.