It was always the same after a break. There was the fear of sleeping in which resulted in difficulty falling asleep and waking too early. There was the dread of going back to the grind. And there was the feeling that the time off had been wasted by not doing enough.
The day was looming on the horizon from the time he'd walked out on the Friday and mentally given his workplace the finger. It had been much further away then, but had neared as the minutes past.
Now, ten days later, they were face to face like two old adversaries.
There way no way out.
Or was there?
The gun in his bag would be a great equaliser.
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