I'm a man

The Bright mid day sun shines insistently through the window and reflects off the barrel of your shotgun. It's highly polished barrel positioned at the perfect angle to reflect the beams directly into your eyes. You ignore the discomfort for a few minutes as the sun diligently works at burning your retinas through closed eyelids before finally succumbing to natures impertinent demands and opening your eyes. You shield them with your left hand and sit up sharply, smashing your head into the beside table in the process. Stifling a frustrated scream you reach for the gun and point it at the inanimate object with all the menace of a lioness on her period.

Despite your ferocity the table issues no apology, in fact it shows no regret of any kind. Just sits there indignantly as your anger slowly subsides and leaves you feeling a little silly. Your grip on the shotgun relaxes and you slump down on large leather chair that has seen better days and try to make a decision.