A Malfunction of the Brain
The first rays of the morning sun beamed poignantly into the small study. Each glimmer of light bounced upon each solid surface and highlighted the wooden floor as he paced. He felt uncomfortable in civilian clothing: a white t-shirt, black pajama pants, and brown slippers. Obviously frustrated, he pulled out the rolling chair and sat at his desk.
"I have a purpose to fulfill," he said aloud as he opened a secret compartment under the desk and emptied its contents.
Smooth, cold metal felt comforting in his hands as he stared intently at the floor. The sudden shift of his thoughts angered him. As he slammed the gun on top of his desk, he stood up, pacing back and forth in front of it again. Speaking to himself didn't seem to bother him.
"This is ridiculous. I have a job to do. My purpose is to destroy Hao. It is my destiny," he rambled on, "Love is useless. Love is simply a malfunction of the brain. It is for the weak. I am not weak." Seemingly satisfied with the advice he gave himself, he adjusted the bridge of his glasses and sat at the desk again.
Blinking rapidly, the uncontrollable thoughts returned. Images of a beautiful sky, thick green grass, lovely flowers in bloom, and a gentle breeze imprisoned his mind. What a wonderful sight: the image of him walking barefoot in the grass, holding hands with the one he loved…
A sudden slam on the desk allowed him to escape again. He examined his fist, which was red from the contact and abruptly returned the gun to its compartment. "No more of this!" he screamed. Suddenly, the need to escape consumed him. He quickly assembled his uniform and made his way for an exit.
As he opened the door, he became overwhelmed with shock. An unexpected visitor was in the hallway with a hand raised to knock. The subject of his dreams. The focus of his fantasies. The object of his desire.