Hancock

Hancock
Jon Hancock grunted and pulled his cap away from his eyes. A small boy was staring at him. “…What boy?” The boy motioned to the screen playing in a store window across from the bench. “Bad guys?” Jon looked at the screens. Then back to the boy. “…What do you want, a cookie? Get the hell outta my face.”

The boy shook his head and walked away. “Asshole.” He mumbled. Jon glared at him. “What!?” The boy didn’t look back. “You heard me!” Jon snarled and picked up his glasses. When he looked back up there was a boy who looked about ten staring at him from beside the store window.

He had wavy brown hair and hazel eyes. His skin was tanned. He was staring at him with a perplexed expression. “What?” Jon asked with obvious annoyance. The boy blinked once and turned and walked off.

Jon picked up a bottle of liquor and cracked his neck before taking off. The bench became ruble. Jon briefly wondered why that kid looked familiar.