text: The person walking in front of him stopped. He was immediately angry. *Everyone is an idiot!* He thought for the third or fourth time today. *Why can’t people just function normally, like I do? Why can’t everyone just do what’s right?* For a moment, he thought of her. She was lovely and kind, he thought, but it was basically all ruined by the fact that even she couldn’t just do what made sense. She needed to talk about the things that would be helpful to her, and never about the unpleasant things he’d decided he shouldn’t allow her to bring up. He knew what she could handle and what would be pleasant for them both, didn't he? She was there for him, but couldn’t she just do basic things right, like he could? She should have a manual for the 25 year old car she can barely afford to keep running- like he had for his new-off-the-lot truck. Didn’t he buy a tire to replace her flat when she couldn’t afford it, out of the goodness of his heart? Sure he knew that her gratitude would give him a little more wiggle room to let his feelings out- tell her what an idiot she was, how her childhood trauma was her fault or scream at her until the relief came from hearing her cry and knowing that he was in charge. Everyone did something kind of naughty to feel better, and she *was* an idiot for not taking his obviously useful advice, anyway. She should know he only said most of those things out of anger and just accept them. After all, he was generous, wasn’t he? He often bought her little things after he’d broken her down a bit, which he didn’t have to do. She was the real coward for not calling him names back, for not defending herself more often. She just liked to pretend he was mean because she was a manipulator and frankly, she didn’t deserve all he’d done for her. He’d told her so. He deserved a better life than the losers he was surrounded by, that was a fact. And as much fun as she was to talk to, he was better than her, too. He didn’t deserve to be sad listening to her talk about sad things, bad days, stresses. He didn’t deserve to watch her suffer. If he had to scream at her and wait for her to stop crying to make her understand that she should just smile and be happy, then he had to. He wasn’t going to beat himself up about it. He had to feel free to say what he felt like saying somewhere without worrying about repercussions. She had no idea what stress he was under. There was always someone at work, some black person usually (he did *not* just think the n word, he noted) who was making trouble the way those people usually do. Or some moron who got promoted above him just because whoever yells loses. Or some woman just looking to create trouble because the new ‘kinder gentler’ airforce favored bitches who liked to pretend they’d been sexually harassed. Wherever he was stationed, there was some massive conflict with at least someone, and the higher-ups always took the other guy’s side. It was complete bullshit. Rage counseling really hadn’t done anything. Neither had the drugs. And as he’d said before (and he meant it!), he was under enough pressure that if he really started to lose out and couldn’t get ahead, he could simply plan to take one of his guns and shoot everyone he’d ever fought with on base and then commit suicide. No one had any idea the stresses he was under, how he never got what he deserved. All of this flashed through his mind in a matter of just a few moments as he pushed past the idiot who had stopped short on the sidewalk right in front of him. *Just another dumbfuck,* he thought, *everyone is an idiot. They should all be put to death.* Looking up, he had a fraction of a second in which everything played in slow motion. As the truck grew larger and blocked out his vision, he had just one moment before it blacked out his world forever to consider that the person in front of him had not been the idiot, after all.