Convenience Store Old Man
1
I, Lucas Yang, started high school, a week after moving away from my hometown. Nothing had really changed in my life, except for the fact that I wasn’t very close to the local convenience store owner. Where I used to live, the old man who ran the store at the edge of town used to ask me to do odd jobs in exchange for ice cream in the winter, and hot tea in the summer. Honestly, I sometimes think that he was a little crazy, but I was always glad to help out.
It was only a couple of days after school started that I started to get used to the town’s layout. The suburban landscape was similar to the one I used to live in, but the placement of the shops and houses was all slightly different. The air was usually hot during the summer evenings, today especially, so sweat rolled down my forehead as I walked down the street, looking for a convenience store.
The store was probably family owned since it sported a broken sign that read, In Cursive? (I don’t think that there are any stores I’ve heard of named that), with parts of the sun-bleached paint scraped off. I had missed it the first couple of times while walking through town because it was sandwiched between two buildings. They were pretty average-sized, but the store was tiny in comparison. It looked quite aged because even though the bright red paint looked quite new, it failed to conceal the cracks and dents of the wall. Overall, it was kind of charming.
Walking in, I was hit by the scent of plums. The air was warm and sweet, which made me frown. Why wasn’t the air conditioning on?! Was it broken?! …Why today of all days-
Oh well, I thought. I guess the AC makes the outside hotter anyway.
I trudged down the aisle, a sigh hanging from my lips. It was just so dang hot…
I found a brand of coffee I’d never seen before and bought it on a whim. Usually, I’m not the type to try new things, but I was already in a new town with new people. I might as well accustom myself to the local goods- Ack!
I slipped on a fallen fruit and knocked over a basket of bitter gourds. I fell to the cracked cement(like) floor, barely managing to catch myself before I hit my head on the ground. Crunch!! The gourds were crushed under my weight, and my newly brought beverage sprayed all over the floor.
“Are you okay?!”
The employee at the cash register ran over to where I fell. He reached out to help me up.
“Thanks. I'm fine,” I said, slowly standing. My shirt and pants were wet from the coffee, and I felt dizzy from dehydration. The heat and the sudden fall made my head spin. I turned to the employee. “Sorry for the mess.”
“…”
What am I supposed to do in this situation?
I felt the heat from my arms pouring down to my hands. I looked down. My hand was dripping with blood.
What the hell.
