It was a sunny day in New York. It wasn't scorching hot, but mild; the kind of sunny day children dream life through after school to get slushies. It was the kind of day an ordinary, hard working citizen would take for granted.    

          She sat at the subway station sipping a cool drink. It was light punch flavored; not too sweet. Perfect.

From the right side of her radar, something was off. Terribly, frightfully off. Usually when walking in the streets, she could size up a person and their capabilities to be a threat. Being trained to kill taught her that. This man approaching her was very different. Even from a block away it was one of the darkest energies she has ever felt in her life. It was, 

Killer.

Despite his tattered pants and non descript muddied sneakers, he reaked of a putrid smell, the alcohol was only the surface. His bottom front teeth were missing, the yellowed chipped teeth that were left were covered in brown oily tar. He was no ordinary homeless man though. 

He was no ordinary homeless man.

This guy is a threat. Watch him. "How are you?" She politely asked to cover up the insult of her moving away.

"Who am I?" He asked back as if he knew what she was doing all along.

"How are you?" She asked again, this time adding a tone of kindness in her voice.

"Oh," he said snapping out of some fragmented dimension she wasn't a part of. "I'm going through a lot."

"Stay calm," she thought, "We're not in the clear yet."

"This dumb bitch took my home. They won't leave me alone, they keep persecuting me. My phones tapped, They're all watching me."

As if she was given an script to read, she added a tone of understanding and said," They are watching you. There are cameras everywhere."

"Yeah? Even in my eyes," he said in an eerie way as he looked at her.

Without transition, he jumped right into what she deep down knew about him all along.

"I want to kill people....I want to kil....I want to kil people...people fucking with me. I want to kill."

She sat calmly and listened. She knew it. Just keep fucking listening. You're not armed. Fuck. 

Eventually, it came down to him talking about his cat which his toned changed to the only glimmer of affection he had. 

"Well, I hope you feel better. Hang in there," she said hiding her discomfort. In a strange way she felt proud even he opened up to her.

The train arrived, as she got up to go in, he didn't follow her. 

"Well, there are other fish in the sea." She heard him say behind her as she boarded.