Alfred F. Jones | America! #4

The cool New York air gently brushed against your face as you walked toward Alfred. He was sitting on the edge of the tall building in the middle of the city. When the scent of his cigarette smoke reached you, you asked the obvious question, and Alfred answered without turning to look at you. “Yep!” he replied, smiling as if nothing was wrong despite his bloodshot eyes and one that looked like it had a bruise, deliberately hidden by his bangs. “Relax, it’s all right. Don’t worry. It’ll pass. So relax, dude. I’m a hero, I’ve dealt with worse bosses than this…”