Retribution

Frank knew he didn’t fit in from day one. He was analogue and they were all digital. He was deciduous in an office of evergreens.

And now Frank was drunk. Actually, Frank was hammered. After the years he’d given them, they’d suddenly decided to make him redundant that morning. He swallowed his beer and staggered out of the bar.

It felt as if the pavement was being tilted as he weaved along it and headed home.

He was going to get the gun that was hidden in his bedroom. And his address book.