Thursday, October 23, 2014

Passenger Story

There was an innocence to the air like nothing would happen. No one, aside from the clerk in checkout 2 suspected anything. The woman behind the counter had placed seven of the eight enticing vodka bottles behind the counter prior to payment. It simply looked like racial profiling to Alex; perhaps it was simply a lucky guess.

In less than a second, the man managed to cuss out the sales clerk and grab four of the bottles: three from behind the counter and the one in front of him. There was a swift movement of from innocence to tense fear; no one knew whether he’d pull a darkly beautiful .45 out of his vest pocket or perhaps a military knife. The unknown was answered by a quick sprint out the door by the suspect, followed by a slow bag boy to the door. The man had apparently already left the alley before the boy had time to blink.

Leaving the story was incredibly relieving. Alex realized his little brother was mere feet from the robber, and it created a sense of violation. He couldn’t quite grasp what it violated but it hung in the air like a bad odor.

During the car ride, Alex couldn’t help but feel a sense of sympathy for the man. He did not appear well off, and the objects that he stole defined his lowly status even more. What man needs four full bottles of vodka so badly that he must steal them? Surely the man was an alcoholic, he thought to himself.

As the sedan pulled into the garage, the event slipped away; lost in the folds of a young mind’s memory. There were other things to do besides dwell on such event.

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