P.O.V.
Once,
there was
this guy. He
was kinda like you
and kinda like me, but
not really.This guy lived
in a dwelling near a topographic
feature. He had a job for which he
had no tangible feelings and he worked
in an undisclosed location for some sort of
business for the required duration. When finished,
he used a form of transportation to go a certain distance
to another location. This location was a place people went
to do something. The person in charge was responsible for
providing the product and/or service for which the people came
(or didn't). In such, the person did whatever necessary to make the
place feel like the place it should be. Anyway, this guy (our guy) was
doing whatever one does when one is where he was when someone else,
who had transported himself from a different, but not entirely dissimilar place,
shot him once in each eye.