The Far Side of Lost
By;
Jessica Singleton
( Fictional Story )
If I was allowed one apology then would that mean that only one person wanted to hear that I fucked up? I was just wondering why I only got one chance to say anything for that matter.
Bill worked nights at a shipping company. He would have saved up for college years ago but life got in the way of that. Now he worked two jobs. One at night packing things and one taking care of his elderly mother Sarah. Bill's favorite time of the day was when he was done with both of his jobs. He'd sit in a chair on the porch and he'd read a book. His mother could not understand anything anymore. So she did not talk , other then to say no or yes. The jerks that he worked with were pathetic excuses for humans. Everything out of their mouth made Bill feel abused just to hear it and it was not an insult or a cuss word. They just had small minds that babbled nonsense. He never really had any friends in life. He'd lived most of his life alone. Reading books was like hearing a great speaker give a lecture on something that woke you up inside. To hear anyone else talk for a few minutes and it not sound like shit was amazing.
There was a guy at Bills work named Taxdiry. He was a weird fellow. He was tall and thin but he just looked bunchy in the face. Like someone took a puppet head off one of those old dummies and then glued it to the top of a tall man's body. And that is about what that man's head was worth. Empty pile of wood chips. Taxdiry was a boss man. He had a college degree in mechanics. How in the hell a guy like that graduated college is more of a mystery then the Lighthouse of Alexandria. Taxdiry wore this cheap men's cologne named spiked date. The only reason that he knew that was that he kept the bottle in his locker at work. He'd spray it on himself when he got to work everyday. That stinky stuff smelled like one of those cardboard air fresheners that you get a gas station mixed with hair spray.
Taxdiry was always mouthing off about blacks or Mexicans. There were none that worked there. They lived in a fairly small town. Mostly old white people.
One night after work Bill went to a dinner for a cup of coffee. He did not want to go home yet. He knew that his mother was in the hospital again. He knew that it was just another reminder of all the bills that would come soon enough.
All the money that went for half ass care that never helped anyway.
Life on hold again and again.
It was not that he did not care.
If he did not care, then he'd have run away years ago.
It was that it was so ironic how he worked his ass off and a guy like Taxdiry was a boss.
Not that Bill wanted to be a boss.
That would mean that he'd have to talk to the assholes that he worked with instead of ignoring them.
A BOSS always has to teach the others or show them what to do.
ew.
Then something happened.
Taxdiry came in to the same dinner.
He went over to hit on the waitress and he tripped in front of the whole restaurant. Then he fell on his face in front of everyone.
Some drunk old man in the corner started to laugh really loud.
Then when Tax stood up, he looked over at the old man and told him to shut up.
But the old man got up to leave. He took his newspaper and rolled it up in his hands.
When the old man walked by TAX, he slapped him upside the head with it.
It was not that he was immature but it was nice to see for some reason. Probably because Tax was a world classless jerk who treated everyone like crap. Nothing ever happened about it either. Then with his own cocky attitude he tripped on himself. And he did it in front of a whole room full of people.
And the best part is that no one apologized to him. He deserved it. No one cared. Thank God they let him fall over.
The dinner had one of those dumb slot machines in the corner.
When Bill got up to leave he thought what the hey.
So he put a dollar in that dumb machine.
It jack potted.
Out of no where, that'd pay off his bills and let him move somewhere else.
The End
No comments:
Post a Comment