Graveyard Shift

There was an emptiness to everything. Even the space between the minutes lacked connective tissue, so that time no longer flowed with any regularity. Josey was left with nothing but her thoughts to fill the void that descended upon the convenience store after midnight.

She'd divide each 15-minute chunk into 91 cents. That's how much she made, after taxes and withholdings. It hardly seemed worth it, and she'd stare out at the empty highway and live an entire lifetime during every span, dreaming of a life where she'd never married, had never given birth.

Until even her imagination was empty.

The Good Neighbor

He waves from across the street, leaving, working nights again. Smiling, I return his wave. She watches him from the doorway, my gaze goes unnoticed.

Twilight passes, darkness falls. Lights go out in their upstairs window.

Patience. Give it time.

Minutes passing like hours.

Thinking back. Their vacation had been great, thanks for feeding the cat. Glad the new key worked.

It still works.

I fixed that squeaking door and creaking stairway for you.

Standing watch beside her, so lovely sleeping. She deserves more attention.

Sure, I'll keep an eye on the place while you're on graveyard shift. My pleasure.

From Guest Contributor Mirshaan.

Mirshaan has a BFA in Education. He loves words.