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My Name is David
I turned the keys off in the ignition; the bold lights in the parking lot highlighted the abundant puddles. My watch began to chant its daily harmony, informing that I was only five minuscule minutes from my shift.
My name is David; I was born the day INFINITY-MART inc. was established.
As my size nine feet splashed across the asphalt a minute smile formed on my face as I peered up to the plasma filled tubes. INFINITY-MART. It was beautiful and haunting in a way that touched my soul. Its glass piping was neatly curved to form those two words which made my life meaningful. The glow bathed my body in soft, blue light. It matched my INFINITY-MART polo.
My name is David; my refrigerator has one can of olives on the top shelf.
A wondrous chime announced my passing of the entry doors. It alerted a black woman and her child. I smiled and said “Welcome to INFINITY-MART, the one place where you CAN find anything!” The little boy laughed and whispered unintelligible nonsense into his mother’s ear. Her earrings were bright, fake, but I knew that she had purchased these faux metal rings here. I had stocked the shelves myself two weeks prior.
My name is David; I buried my dog last month.
“Hello Sharon. It’s a lovely night to be at work.” I said over Sharon’s diminutive shoulder. She turned and blinked twice, the first slower than the following. Her pierced eyebrows raised in scorn as she looked me over head to toe.
“Tell Joe I worked another half an hour, okay?” I simply smiled and nodded. She turned towards the women’s locker room and swiftly walked away.
My name is David; a man died in my apartment before I began to rent it.
Today was Saturday and so it was that my duty was to stock the gaps in fifteen thousand three hundred and two shelves. I used the same cart to accomplish this task that I used on my first night in this metropolitan sanctuary. It had one squeaky wheel that I oiled occasionally. My task took one hundred and twelve minutes, each one of them pure ecstasy.
My name is David; I smoke one cigarette every hour before my shift.
It’s three in the morning at INFINITY-MART. I am the only person in the store, this is my favorite time. I sing under my breath as I walk the aisles. I can shout as loud as my lungs will allow and no one will hear me. I also like to eat my first meal of the day now. It consists of one apple and a bowl of cereal. Once I finish my somewhat spartan breakfast I lie on my choice bed with the blue flower on its top blanket and stare at the ceiling until Joe enters at six o’ clock.
My name is David; I listened to the radio once. It didn’t play the INFINITY-MART theme.
“Howdy David, how’s the store?” says Joe in the same tone and rhythm as the day before. And the day before that. And the day before that. Joe asks this question once a day, every day.
“Excellent as always Joe.” I comment. Joe clapped me on the shoulder as he did twenty-four hours ago, and walked in the direction of his quaint office in the north eastern corner of INFINITY-MART. Joe wore the same shoes as I did, he wore the same INFINITY-MART polo, but his belt was white. My belt was black.
My name is David: There was a dead rat in the complex pool one day.
At seven a.m. in the morning I leave INFINITY-MART and return home. I arrived at my apartment complex at seven o’ five. On my trek to the fifth floor I passed many of my neighbors, they did not notice me. I found my key and engaged it within the lock on my door. I opened and closed the door, simultaneously dropping my wallet to the floor. My phone had a message. My eyebrows raised in slight surprise as I walked over to the device. A little opaque button on the phone blinked red flashes every three and one half seconds. My finger pushed the source of light.
“Hello” chirped an automated tone.
“I am calling on the behalf of Senator McIntyre. In the coming election we would appreciate your vote, thank you for your time.” I turned the message off and proceeded to the bathroom for a twenty minute shower.
My name is David; I voted once. The candidate had worked for INFINITY-MART.
Because of my late night shift I must sleep during the daylight hours, and it is difficult at times. I put on my blue sleepwear. In the front chest pocket my toothbrush stood stoically against the cerulean polymers. As I pulled my toothbrush from its soft nest I opened my medicine cabinet to retrieve my toothpaste. The sapphire paste exited its tube slowly at my urgings. When the brush was adequately covered I turned the cold faucet to the on position. I ran the liquid over my toothbrush and proceeded to scrape my teeth fifty-four times in all the positions that my mother taught me. I finished the twice daily chore but dropped the intricately advertised tube of cleaning goop onto the blue linoleum floor. I leaned over to reach for the renegade toiletry but something shiny caught my eye. The twinkle in the dark glistened from beneath the marble sink. My fingers groped for the unknown and were met with a sharp stinging pain. I fell back onto my backside and swiftly brought
my finger up to my face. Red liquid gushed from index finger. My breathing became labored and my throat pressed in upon itself. I quickly found the bandages and wrapped them tightly around the bleeding hand. I ran to my closet, entered and closed the door. The dark swallowed my panic, and after a time I slept.
My name is David; I went to the hospital as a young boy, I had nightmares for months.
When I awoke I could not be sure as to whether I had opened my eyes or that the dark was all consuming. My optical organs followed what I believed was my hand as it grasped the closet door knob. I opened the door and found my bedside lamp. I pressed the activator switch and was blinded by artificial light. It was then that I remembered my injured finger. Hurriedly I unwrapped the makeshift wrapping and was confronted by a landscaped of dried blood. I saw mountains and valleys of coagulated liquid contained within a small slit on my index finger. After I had studied this healing phenomenon I remembered what had caused this horrifying experience. With these memories fresh in my mind I crawled over to the sink and snatched a flashlight out of the medicine cabinet. I flicked on the blue “on” button and flashed its light in search of my attacker. It was soon that I observed a protruding nail from the floor. I dropped the light and stood up to look for my pliers. I found the cold steel gripping utensil and broke the nail with a swift jerk. The metal scrap rolled on the azure linoleum floor in a tight circle. There was dried blood on the point.
My name is David: I named the largest cockroach in my apartment “Steve”.
As I prepared for my shift, Steve approached from the darkness. I laughed softly as to not scare him away and found an old banana peel to offer as a meal. Steve regarded the feast with his antennae but seemed to not be hungry. I walked
around the counter to retrieve my keys. I looked back as I was turning the knob on my door and saw that my friend was still trailing me. I laughed once more and placed Steve amongst his brethren inside the waste basket to allow my escape.
My name is David; there were three hundred and sixty-two cockroaches in my apartment three nights ago.
I drove to INFINITY-MART with a smile on my face just the same as the night before and the one preceding that. My finger was safely covered by a flesh tone bandage, and my panic attack pushed far back into the recesses of my conscious mind. Pulling into INFINITY-MART I observed that Joe’s tan hatchback vehicle was parked at the closest parking space to the entrance of INFINITY-MART. This was strictly against the employee handbook, as all workers were required to park in the distant spaces in order to free up the closer ones for customers. I parked in my regular area and with a puzzled expression I walked across the dark lot. I passed a few customers but they were not carrying bags. My stride grew longer with each step. I entered the store and was stopped by Joe. “Hello David, how are you?” asked Joe in a strange tone.
“Fine Joe, but I noticed that your automobile was parked in an illegal space according to the manual.” I said back. Joe laughed once but with fallen eyes.
“David, INFINITY-MART incorporated was sold today and is going to be liquidated.” Mourned Joe.
My name is David; I died the day INFINITY-MART inc. closed its doors forever.
When my eyes opened I saw nothing but the fluorescent lights hanging from the massive ceiling of INFINITY-MART. I slowly sat up from the cold unforgiving floor. I had been covered by a blanket and a pillow was placed beneath my head. I
looked around the empty store and noticed the note placed a foot from my current position.
I knew somehow that the news would be worse for you more than anyone else. I’m sorry I can’t stay with you, my plane leaves in twenty minutes. Don’t worry David, all things are temporary.
I left the small note on the floor where it had been placed for me. I didn’t remember how to walk so I crawled to the undersized blue chair beside the number two cash register and pulled myself up. I put my head in between my knees and vomited. I remained that way for a long time.
My name is David; The gun cabinet key is in Joe’s office.
After God knows how long I stood and stumbled through the store. Everything was in place from the previous night. No one had so much as nudged a box of cereal out of its determined place. My obsession drew me around the parking lot as well, trying to find every last discarded shopping cart. When the last carrier had been rescued and put safely back into its holding pen it began to rain. And with the arrival of this unwelcome weather event I hurried inside the store.
My name is David; the night I died, a twelve gauge shotgun was my savior.
I could see myself in the glass. My reflection broke only by gun metal black. Joe’s key turned in my hand and the glass case swung open like the arms of the reaper. My favorite was a shotgun with a wooden stock and oak finish on the pump. My hand drummed a nameless tattoo on the firearm, my fingers slowed with every measure. I found the shells for my favorite shotgun with the wooden stock and oak finish on the pump. The buckshot held in place by a casing of navy plastic.
My name is David; my favorite bed in INFANITY-MART is a child’s single cot with a lovely flower design on the comforter.
With my friend in hand I ambled to my favorite single bed in the store. The blue flower welcomed my advance with open petals. I slowly slipped my shoes off as I lay back on the bed. When my eyes saw only ceiling I brought the reaper up to sit on my chest. I sat there remembering every moment of my life in this store, this shelter of modern poverty, this provider to the dregs of society, this facilitator to the scum of this city. The memories were many and I relished them all. When the last scene left my mental eye, I noticed the INFINITY-MART clock on the bed stand to my right. It was six fifty-five. Five minutes until my shift was over. Five minutes until I went home. Five minutes until I left INFINITY-MART.
My name is David; there are four minutes left when the gun is placed in my mouth and my toe wraps around the trigger.
My name is David; there are three minutes left when I turn the safety off.
My name is David; there are two minutes left before Steve the cockroach is king of my apartment.
There is one minute left before my toe pulls the trigger.