there was blood on the white tile floor. smeared along the base-board- up the wall. I thought.. Oh no...and wondered if it was the rain cloud. Friday. this bad luck. the 13th. how does one get to believe in such things?
I arrived to work and there was glass from the front office door everywhere. exploded by a brick that lay near by. We have an alarm. it was still armed. Don't ask me how that happens. Glass and blood on the floor. Don't ask me why it's worth it. I know things are tough out there. I'm not blind. the sense of doom in the air with the gas prices and all the other shit. you can feel it. I know 4 people who have been robbed in the last month. people who have jobs and are trying to make money. to get by. Blood.Good it hurt a little. If it's worth it. It should. It does.
now what's missing?. secretary doesn't have a computer or monitor any longer. drawer open. no more stamps either. no boom-box to listen to her country music, no little desk fan that used to blow on her face, no company cell-phone. But the chinese lucky-cat I put up on the counter for good-luck is still there. You don't fuck with luck-cat. He saw who did it. cursed is what i say. if you believe in such things.
nothing taken from my office or anything from the warehouse. a smash and grab.
Do I consider myself lucky? Is this what I do?.
It is what I do. Everything that happens to me is the best possible thing that can happen to me.
I've practiced living that for months now. For the rest of my life. The blood, a little revenge.
Police came, dusted for prints. Door is ply-wood for now. Glass is on order. Security sensors added. Clean the floor. clean the stains. everything keeps going. everyone keeps going. I keep going. I keep dreaming. I keep waking up.
Everyday. Coming back for more.
coming for you.
1. Mike Egan
2. James Jean