Originally Posted by Trainer

The Fury Begins
Just standing from the night’s sleep, Bill stretched tall, trying to get his muscles moving for the work the day has in store. The heavy thud of his foot falls make on the wood floor lead him to glance back to make sure his beautiful wife still lay asleep on the bed. All his eyes can make out in the dark is the long flowing hair laying across and down her pillow. The dark room allows for no details, but the stillness tells him all he needs to know. He had not waken her in over five years and hadn’t really noticed any need to look back for a long time but this morning things seemed different.
One glance in the mirror told him something was really wrong. His thoughts roamed through the events that took place the night before going to bed. But found nothing unusual to cause what he saw in the mirror. It wasn’t the three day shadow that caused the alert or even the blank stare that came back from the mirror. What alerted him was the sight of dried blood across his forehead and around his eye. What had he done that would have caused that?

Good up until here, revision is needed, but overall easy to read and attention gaining.

The faucet seemed to not want to turn at all. One hand on the hot water knob and a quick twist always got it before. Now it is like he has no strength in his hand at all. Securing both hands with a firm grip around the faucet handle, he twists it all the way on to send water splashing in the sink. Quickly, he turns the water half way down with the feeling of confusion and anger raging through him he had not experienced before that he knew of. Was he really that angry of a man and didn’t know it?
His mind reeled, “Come on, I am 5’8” tall, strong as an ox, and as mild mannered as a kitten certainly I can get through this morning without this. I can’t remember the last time I was angry and now I get angry because a little water splashed on the sink. Bill, what is wrong with you? Why are you so angry?
His fingers had gradually rolled into a tight fist, his elbows and curled to 90 degree angle, and his shoulder muscles felt ready to strike on any whim. “Relax Bill.” His mind slows into control again. “Don’t do something stupid that you will regret. I’ll just get this blood off my face and let it go.” Reaching his hand into the running water to check the temp; the temp is fine and the wash cloth is right beside the sink. He lightly tosses the wash cloth into the sink for it to soak up the water. A few seconds later, he grasps the faucet to turn it off and remembered what happened when he turned it on. With slow steady control, he just takes the washcloth out of the sink to wipe his face. “I’ve got to shave anyway.” He thinks.
He slowly wipes the washcloth across his face and around his eyes. With most of the blood wiped away, he saw no physical scrape that would have caused such bleeding. He wiped off the rest of the blood with amazement that there was no cut on his face. “Where did all that blood come from? What did I do last night?”
Bill shook it off with a shiver and picked up the razor to shave. The shaving cream felt cool on his face and relaxing to the nerves. “Finally,” Bill thought, “something that went right this morning.” The cool feeling spread over his face as he gradually spread the cream over his face. “This is going to be a good day.” While Bill was reaching for his razor, he repeated, “This is going to be a good day.”
The razor glided down his face removing that three day shadow with the greatest of ease. Bill’s mind ran immediately to the many razor cuts that he gets almost every morning and wondered why his super beard that never gave up easily would surrender so quickly today and why had it grown so thick in just one night. With all else that has gone on this morning, he didn’t argue the point anymore.

These four paragraphs I really don't get. In the first he seems to be angry for no reason, then you have full paragraph to describe him wiping blood off of his face, and another two to describe him shaving. These actions don't require paragraphs, probably not even full sentences. Oh, and your description through dialogue is very obvious, you should consider changing that.

Shaving, showering, and getting dressed went easily enough. By the time his briefcase was in his hand, lunch ready to go, and ready to give his wife the see you after work kiss; he saw the clock on the wall. It was if it jumped off the wall and yelled, “YOU’RE LATE! Get it in gear and GO, NOW!”
Hurrying out the door, Bill grabbed his briefcase, lunch and flew out the door pulling at the door but not getting it closed. Jumping off the full length porch, he landed squarely on the walkway to the drive. His hands in his pocket for his keys, he spun right to shoot directly to the Mercedes Benz.
A strange voice came from somewhere inside him and said, “Don’t take the Benz, the truck would be better.”
“The truck?” Bill looked at a 70’s model F-150 that he used once or twice a month and never got rid of. He hated the truck for the rough ride and body-beating torture that it creates. He had absolutely no intention of taking that truck unless he had no other options. Whoever came up with that idea was a lunatic and he would not and could not except that he came up with that as an idea.

Again with the daily grooming rituals in this paragraph. I know this is harsh, but the rest of this reads like a jumbled mess. When rewriting, take your time, look over your work, and read it to yourself. You will see there is a lot you can remove, and still get your story across.

This is a small example of my first attempt at a fiction novel. Does antone have a idea to improve it?