(new first post) Howard stood in the store by a road side gas station, looking through boarded up windows, he noticed nothing. He edged away from the wooden planks and stood at the centre of the small convenience store. He slipped the scimitar out of it's sheathe and stood completely still, coaxing images of his old life, twirling and dodging and stabbing at his opponents, the crowds roaring and gasping in appreciation and shock. He commenced to follow through with his mental images swooping in wide arcs and dodging the invisible thrusts of enemies, not letting his injured right knee slow him down. He started to move faster each blow and thrust increasing in magnitude and passion. Suddenly he stopped, panting, he heard them. Two people walking, a conversation between them. Howard sheathed his sword and peered through the window, nail rifle in hand. He was right, two people a man and a young lady were walking down the road, the lady visibly shaken, the man seeming indifferent. Howard turned around and started to tiptoe away from the window when he stepped on can causing a loud crunching sound. 
"oh f***"