The Opening


Overpopulation can be a terrible burden for the living.  Crowded living conditions usually mean trouble.  Higher crime rates.  Increased agitation.  Such a difficult situation can often lead to violence.

Maybe even murder.

Vernon checked his watch.  Half past six o’clock on a Thursday evening.  If only it were Friday.  Friday at this time he would be home.  And he would see no people all weekend.  This was the way he preferred it.  His job as manager of the department store only spelled interactions with people.  People and people and more people.  Rude people and stupid people and people with little to no hygiene.  Disgusting people.  People who should never leave home but for some reason these were always the ones who did leave their homes.  Their presence was not a good idea for sharing.  Yet in they came.  Day in and miserable day out.  Vernon needed a break.  This line was not helping.

For dinner he planned on spaghetti, but at the last minute he realized he had no pasta.  So he dashed in quickly to the little dump on the corner to acquire his missing ingredient.  In less than a minute he grabbed his pasta and headed for the check out.  But then it hit him.

The place had one cashier on duty but two registers as always.  And the line was dreadful.  Vernon did a head count.  Fourteen other souls waited to hand their money over to the cashier for their purchases.  Tall people and short people and thin people and frail people and plump people and old people and sick people and ugh.  Just people.  Vernon took three deep breaths as he contemplated the job before him.  He dealt with people all day at his job but the store paid him for that.  Much easier to stand them when financial compensation was provided.  But now here he stood facing the cold reality that he would endure the presence of these beings while giving his money away.  Just for one measly package of pasta.  A little over a dollar.  He wiped his sweaty palms on his khaki pants and headed to the back of the line.

Standing fifteen feet from the register, he looked to the right.  Nothing new there.  He looked to his left.  Nope.  Same old shelves of goods he saw every time he came in this place.  For the past two weeks he had managed to get what he needed at the store he worked at for a discount, but every now and then his memory failed him and he had to grab something small quickly on his way home since he lived just shy of forty miles from his workplace.  He would move closer but then he would be in the congested city.  He could not stand to even consider that.  Philadelphia had a lot to offer in the way of entertainment which Vernon enjoyed earlier in life, but not anymore.





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)