You 're moments late to literally everything . You watch busses pull away as you run behind them , girls get asked out as you walk up to them , and you have never caught a green light . One day though , you arrive on time . [ WP ]

Note: ( I'm not a great writer like most of you but I enjoyed writing this up and decided to post. ) 
 
 I looked up and stared at the wall of killing machines as if viewing the menu at a fast food establishment. Those orders were probably aiding my death too, but I was now thinking more in terms of Mac 50 ’ s than Big Macs. My whole life has been spent trailing reality by a few footsteps, as if I ’ ve been placed under a curse by a god I don ’ t believe in. Regardless of how prepared I am, or what time I leave, I will always somehow be late to my destination. I have never once made it anywhere on time. And I plan on ending all of it today. 
 
 I can no longer go forth with a life late. I do wonder how Patricia is going to react, but I imagine not well. I also feel it would make matters worse if I stain the new carpet with my blood, which is why I ’ m thinking of committing the act outside somewhere. I don ’ t want to be selfish. Patricia loves that carpet. I do hope she lies to our daughter about me - tells her I died a hero or something. Maybe I ’ ll go down to the beach. 
 
 The person ahead of me picked up a few boxes of ammo and gave me a smile under his thick mustache as he passed. I could tell by the way he talked to the owner that he must have been a regular. I heard the creak of the door. I assumed it was him leaving, but I realized I was wrong when I heard a tumultuous: 
 “ Everybody on the ground! ” 
 
 I obeyed like a dog and turned my head towards the door. Two men with masks pointed pistols in my direction. A blanket of dizzying heat smothered me. As my hands began to shake and sweat, I realized that I still feared death. But it also then occurred to me that for the first time in my life, I was in the right place at the right time. *This could be poetic. * I quickly sprang to my feet and charged at one of the armed men. I put all my force against his body, causing him to tumble backwards and smack the back of his head against a wall, leaving him comatose. 
 
 I then heard a thunderous bang. And then another. And then another. A fiery sharp sting invaded my guts and I felt warmth trickling down my back. The chaotic environment slowly oozed away and everything went dim - color began to lose its depth. Hazy lights flickered. 
 
 
 *I can ’ t believe I took out that one fucker* was the last thing I said. I closed my eyes. 
 
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 Fog surrounds a train stop. A black robed man with a particularly pale face and a scythe stands there, waiting. He looks at his watch and nods his head in irritation. A heartbeat from a heart rate monitor is heard.
