A short story written by Rik Villanueva

29 and wasting time at work. . . Work was a retail retirement home of some 85 years. Immediately following the holidays comes the mediocre task of markdowns. You know, dropping prices to clearance. Pink on blue. Pink price stickers over the old blue ones. Drone work. Standing in front of a clothes rack or rounder changing stickers. A monotonous existence for a few hours a day. Stressful, but not high energy stressful. Stressful like a helium balloon slowly drifting far enough to be out of view, then gone. Tack on to that my suspicious demeanor. Pink on blue. A rage building on an otherwise cool personality. You wouldn’t want to approach me on a sales floor. Before you had the chance to finish asking if I worked there, I’d say ‘No’. Neglect like holding up your hand trying to get a teacher’s attention only to be called on and give a wrong answer. Letdown. Pink on blue.

The way the feminine form of my ex slinks over my best friend. I’m sure he doesn’t care. Her passion, his stoic nature. Pink on blue. My rage over cool. Neglect or rejection. Markdowns. Becoming less than the sum of your parts. A man on a clearance rack. Overlooked by the more fashionable. The name brand wearing social elite there to be seen. The ones who could get away with wearing pink on blue.

But I’m still there forcing stickers over stickers. Staring blankly into customers faces. Breathing faces asking the dead for passage.

No reply.

No best friend.

No ex-girlfriend.

No more answers.

Life over death.

Pink on blue.

Comments Off