What I hope will be a longer story through public pressure

Vincent Cahill was 42 and was proud of the uniform he wore and the badge that bore not the insignia or seal of any law enforcement agency but instead the name of a private security firm of which he was the sole employee. Each morning he’d polish the brass on each button to a high shine and iron the pants until the pleats were sharp enough to cut cans should he need to do that and not have the proper tool.
If he had a superior officer, he certainly would have passed inspection and if he’d had subordinates, they most definitely would have snapped to attention, confident in the authority of their commander and prepared to willingly leap to their death if necessary.
His duty was to guard, defend and keep safe the 5000 square feet of pavement in one of the city’s once finer neighborhoods but now had gone to hell. It was a position at which he excelled. After nearly a year, there had not been a single attempt to steal it, burgle it, bugger it or kill it.
Nonetheless, he patrolled this pavement as though it housed the riches of Fort Knox. Speaking to himself in military jargon of “Ten Hut.” “Right Face” “All Clear” and at the hours when he was least likely to be heard he would sound the top of the hour followed by “…and All’s Well!,” to the chagrin of the homeless men trying to sleep nearby.
The owners entrusted him with the duty of safeguarding this former office building space to keep it from becoming a parking lot. Prior to Vincent Cahill, that job had been entrusted to a 22 story building. Now, the building gone, only the empty space remained with no one to talk to. Sure, Vincent was there, but the empty space could not talk so the point was moot.
Had the empty space been able to talk it would probably have asked why it was not a parking lot already. The only thing keeping it from being a parking lot was cars parking on it. The answer was that the owners didn’t want that. That was what Vincent Cahill was there to prevent.
It occurred to Vincent Cahill to point out to the landowners that the same end could be accomplished by a fence. Then it occurred to Vincent Cahill that he would not have this job or the accompanying generous paycheck and cool uniform that went with a job that asked so little.