No one was as shocked by James’ death as James himself. He was a good man, who gave generously to charities, worked at soup kitchens, and was kind to everyone he met.
It was unfortunate, then, that his appearance was so similar to that of a mafia street soldier so despicable his own boss had a contract put on him.
As James walked to the soup kitchen he volunteered at, a thug stepped out of a dark doorway.
“Hey buddy, got a light?” the thug asked.
When James turned to look at the man asking for a light, he was bludgeoned from behind with a baseball bat.
His last thought was “What did I do?”
