The Fury of the Righteous

Everywhere he turns he sees blasphemy and heathens plugging their godless agenda. He sees the fabric of his once great country ripped apart by everyone. Lucky for him, he can do something about it, something terrible... This is my entry for the NaNoWriMo thingy.

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2. Khalid

"Be sure to pick up some milk on the way home." Khalid Qaisrani's wife called from the living room as he slipped his coat on over his jacket. 

"Will do." He replied as he checked himself over in the mirror one more time. Neat tie? Check. Shirt pressed and clean? Check. Jacket looking pristine? Check.

A quick examination of his chin ensured it was silky smooth. His Movember moustache was... frankly disappointing, but he wasn't about to shave it off - not when he still had plenty of time to grow it out. His wife had suggested that a little stubble suited his mocha-coloured skin quite nicely, but Khalid was never quite so sure. Sometimes he'd let that happen - he knew it titalated her just a little - but at the same time, it gave him the appearance of an unmade bed, not a good look for a job interview.

Hair neat and trimmed? Also check. He ran his fingers through it (or tried to, the hair gel offered up a fair degree of resistance), and was satisfied with how it looked.

"Good luck dear!" His darling wife, with those gorgeous blue eyes, stepped out of the living room, cradling their baby boy. The little tike had his mother's eyes and fair complexion, but daddy's sleek black hair was already coming along quite nicely. He looked up at Khalid and gurgled sweetly, smiling a little, in that adorable ways only babies could.

His wife kissed him, and he leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead, and with a smile, stepped out of the door and into the chilly November air.

****

Khalid loved London. The city was noisy, the air was usually dirty, the people could be rude and brusque, but at the same time, as he made his way down the pavement toward Highbury and Islington station, he felt that familiar rush of vibrancy that accompanied his trips into the city. London was a beautiful, busy, chaotic melting pot of ideas, where, if you brave enough, you could achieve anything.

Today, as the wind stirred up amber leaves across the road and path, Khalid felt a rising sense of optimism. The chance to work for Beacon Technology wasn't one that came along every day. Yes, it was a junior position, yes, the job was more about promotion and marketing than actual design, but Khalid would have a foot in the door at one of the world's leading companies. He couldn't mess this up.

 

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