Anger at the Airport
You know what I hate most about this guy? He looks calm. Maybe his spirit animal is a duck. Maybe he’s working his chubby ass off under the surface. I admire the calm appearance. I am never calm. I am always one moment away from a hateful panic of fury. I do not belong among the dullards of basic, normal men. I am in constant need of a lobotomy or an alien abduction. I don’t belong here. Everything is terrible and the Matrix is fucked. Also, The Matrix is a stupid movie. Its sequels are even worse. I’m in the minority on this opinion, which proves my point.
Her fury, her hurt, her fear and shame was pure focus. She dug deeper into her legs. The blood began to run down her thighs, soaking through her dress and forming a small puddle in the pew.