At the start of a shift

Four minutes before my shift starts. I insert the catheter – it stings and the pain lodges somewhere in my gut. The neural net is next – it clamps onto the spineport. It’s second generation and it feels like a weight. The way it trails behind realtime gives me a headache. The shift is five hours long. I can’t afford a break – they dock your wages for every minute you are away from the till.

The door swings open. My first customer moves with the grace of a tank – he’s a gorilla splice – giant with subnormal intelligence to match. He wants a hammer and some bolts.
Over his shoulder I can see the morning freighter arrive. An old lady, caught in the downwash is blown to the side of the landing pad. Her body is crumpled and unmoving. If she’s still there at shift end the dogs will clear her up.

– Benjamin F Jones

It clamps onto the spineport

For an less accurate vision of my day in work click here.

About Graphite Bunny

I am a writer working in South Wales (UK). I love pizza, photography and moist clay. When it rains I catch drops in my open mouth. I create poetry, flash, absurdist snapshots and humorous fiction.
This entry was posted in Humour, Prose, Science Fiction and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to At the start of a shift

  1. Ouch, ouch, ouch! Presumably you’re not entitled to drink anything, either, without getting your pay docked? At least that would cut down on the need to urinate. Are you allowed to sue them if you get a urinary infection? Savage conditions. I suppose they actively discourage their staff from joining trade unions, too.

    • It is a hard life in the store that cannot be named for legal reasons. I sugar it up a bit for the blog obviously! We get £8 a year to go towards Cefalexin to ward of UTIs.

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