Jacob
went to K-Mart to buy an antique daydream. Because it was so expensive, it had
been on layaway for a century. His job sweeping bones out of the ballroom
didn’t pay very well. He’d been saving for so long. Even now he knew he was two
dollars short. He planned to use his charm on the cashier, hoping that she
would let it slide, or let him perform some kind of immoral and indecent act to
cover the rest. Anything, anything… he would do whatever she asked. Jacob was
sure this would work out for him. It had to, it was Christmas.
And
then, it was his turn and there she was, smiling. He paid what money he had and
explained, telling his story in all its utterly sad, reprehensible, pathetic
glory. And she smiled and said no. She was sorry but there was nothing that she
could do. Jacob’s eyes fell to the floor, his hands went into his pockets, and
then hundreds of tiny Chinese throwing stars were pelting the cashier and all
the customers and screams and blood filled the layaway department and the
manager shuffled out of the back and sighed. I knew this would happen one day,
he said as a throwing star stabbed him in the eye.
No comments:
Post a Comment