Note: I didn’t have a specific goal here beyond attempting to do a simple storytelling that included: tell something that happened, must include a line that makes people reflect, introduce an element of fantasy, introduce 4th dimension breaking mechanic, have the story structured cluttered yet somehow finding its way to be a cohesive mess. This was a writing challenge for myself.
Caught in the heavy rain and sought cover at a convenience store. Seeing the downpour prompted me to buy something because I’ll be in here for a little while.
Chips or alcohol?
I don’t like chips. This looks nice, I haven’t tried this one yet.
An energy drink? They all taste the same, like medicine.
Tempting to mix them but I just want to savor the new product for now. What do you want?
Nothing.
I went to the counter and found a kid was counting their coins to buy a hotdog.
Not just any hotdog, it’s a cheese dog on a bun, steamed at regulated temperature for hours to maintain the juicy flavor and made by the finest ingredients, it’s accessible, it’s affordable, it’s delicious, you know you want it!
Maybe I should buy a hotdog. I muttered to myself.
Caught in my sales talk?
No. I’m probably hungry. That hotdog’s color isn’t appetizing.
The kid must have heard the exchange to glance at my way. But his eyes darted toward the cashier after being told he doesn’t have enough money. Now that I mind, the kid had dirt over his face, emanated a strong smell of sewer, and an attire fit for the streets. He was short of 10 pesos.
He reached for his can searching for more coins. I didn’t hear a clang. It was empty. I knew it was empty. The kid knew it was empty. The cashier knew it was empty. There was nothing more in there. But the kid searched, embarrassed, he looked at the hotdog hungry.
I didn’t have the patience to wait what will likely happen next. I just handed over the bill and told the cashier the hotdog is on me, asked the kid if he also wanted something else? he didn’t say no yet he didn’t give me a clear answer. I asked the cashier to wait while I took another hotdog and soda to hand to the kid.
Now you don’t need to share one hotdog with her.
I was referring to the smaller kid standing by the glass door waiting for her big brother. She looked thinner for her age. The kid left the store handing the extra food to his sibling. I didn’t wait to see them off. Finally, they’re out of my mental space, good riddance.
As I paid and examined my receipt,
12% tax, country’s 8.6% inflation since February 2023, I lost my appetite, wonder what the markets look like right now, glad I held back telling the kids their parents failed them big time to go through this type of childhood, redact the last thought and focus on what you want to do later.
This stream of thoughts just flows in seconds within the internal head space. The cashier would just look at me looking at the receipt, taking my leave from the counter and searching for a seat. Doing nothing out of the ordinary while a circus was playing inside my head.
In less than 2 seconds, whatever positive feelings felt dissipated.
Felt good didn’t it? You didn’t solve anything there. You only pressed paused and things will go back the way they were. There’s no resolution here. You bought that feeling.
Stop. It’s like you’re really hand crafted by the devil specifically to torment me.
I am, I will, and you should have gotten used to it by now.
It was a short term solution. I only provided pocket change for the hungry kid to eat, maybe caused a smile, or maybe it wasn’t as impactful considering they probably have gotten used to being helped by now, there’s no solution that had permanence laid out through the conduct. I just paid for the feeling of helping someone and felt empty right afterwards. I couldn’t remember their faces after that. This happened just a few minutes ago and their features were already erased from my mental space.
I picked a bench good for two. Near a fire exit, near the entrance, near the door for staff, and still give me a wider vision of the entire store. I just need 2 out of all the requirements met and I’m good with the seats.
Yeah… what are the chances this place is going to catch fire or a robber busting through those doors guns blazing?
I don’t know but I certainly would thank myself for being positioned at the right place in that wrong time if it were to happen.
You and your mental scenarios.
I just let out a sigh and let my eyes drift across the street. The rain kept pouring and people walked along the sidewalk forming a stream. They wore no faces. At least that’s how most people look until I stare at them long enough to notice the individual features. Individuals holding their umbrellas braving the winds and rain forming a stream of sentient flesh with clothing I-
Do you ever get tired of thinking?
The question interrupted the beginning of my mental rambling. I must’ve have spaced out again.
It’s all I have. You should have gotten used to it by now.
How are you feeling?
Wrong question.
Ok, what are you thinking?
The broader picture. I’m able to think about the broader picture because I don’t have to be concerned about the mundane matters. I’m fortunate and cursed to have the opportunity asking the existential questions. For the entire history of man, we are creatures that crave tragedy accepting that some people have to suffer for others to live in comfort. Whatever the political ideologies that rule, there will always be people that will live having the short end of the stick.
There you go again.
I don’t intend to change the system. I intend to use whatever advantage is provided by the system. If I fail at it, then I may as well watch the world burn while having the last say at least I tried.
Just to feel good about yourself?
There’s that, and there’s also a middle finger to all that chose to feel and do nothing. No matter how many likes, comments, and pity posting is done, majority can’t be assed to lift a finger because they’re all talk.
Uh huh… and how exactly do you plan on doing this- oh wait! Don’t start, I won’t hear the end of this.
I might as well elaborate if it causes you suffering we’ll start with fuck—no! don’t put that it your mouth, aw damn. Ok. Not much can be done now.
What are you talking about?
That old lady across the street held a half-finished hotdog and it fell on the sidewalk. She picked it up and gave a few wipes with her finger then took a bite.
Seems like she’s used to living in the streets. Nothing you can do.
Yes. Will this rain ever end? I just want to go home and sleep.
You still have a 3am shift to look forward to later. Plus you’re on deck for the next autopsy.
Did I ever fail to say I hate you?
No, not a single day has passed where you were inconsistent in that regard.
I expect you to continue doing what you’re meant to do.
I could’ve been anything but you just wanted me to be your naysayer.
The rain made its pause and I concluded the conversation abruptly as I stood. I made one last purchase of steamed pork bun for the road and left the establishment. The glass door reflected who I was conversing with. Barely a few step away from the store, the bun landed onto an old lady’s hand. She was unkempt and toughening it out in the sidewalk. Her can of coins almost filled which signaled she was about to be done for the day.
She was no stranger. I know she, like the rest of the children on the streets would count their blessings from others that helped after several hours in the sun just to buy food equivalent to the amount I could probably earn from this shitpost spent writing for less than an hour.
Life will give unequal opportunities to everyone.
Old habits die hard and someday I’ll pay for these sins I willingly made.
I’m looking forward to see how those ideals will drag you to your death.
And then I got abducted by UFOs.
If you made it this far reading, thank you for your time.