Psychopath Daydreams

Fucking hate this job, carrying groceries

to their car for them. Lazy bastards.

This lady is something else, maybe 80,

walks slow with bright white hair and

and shrinking bones.

"Wonder if that

hunch is flat enough to balance eggs on.

Wonder about ax-swinging this case of diet soda

down on it as hard as I can. I picture it.

The wind giving and pulling the little hairs

on my arm, the crack, she crumples quick,

giving out a tired wail on the way down,

flopping around on the pavement like a little fish,

I chuckle thinking about it,"

she smiles back at me,

Mind your business bitch, I think.

Go back to my happy thoughts.

"She's in pain,

need to finish her off, hate to be a dick and

make her suffer. Grab a shopping cart and

lumberjack it like before, aiming to bring

the basket down square on her neck,

you know the part of the cart kids hold onto

with their little hands when they ride on the front?

Anyway, she's moving and I miss, hit the shoulder.

She doesn't appreciate my failed mercy-kill. Ungrateful whore.

What else do I have? Look around. Her keys.

Grab em. Roll her over and key-knuckle throat

punch until the old hag stops moving. I chuckle

again out of relief. "

We get to her car and I load the groceries and tell her to have a nice day. She reciprocates. On the way back my mind drifts again.

"Dodging the red pool of her life. Take a big step over the stream running and blocking my way. Zigzag all the way back inside the store. It's been a long day. Was that carry-out thirteen or fourteen? I can't remember. I chuckle again imagining what I must look like walking around the parking lot like this. Avoiding the nonexistent hazards of an invisible maze. I stop at the entrance and turn around, admiring the flat sea of my amusement. Red glistening pools mixed with dull, dry and sticky spots, it's beautiful I think. Like the ocean. "

Manager yells at me to quit blocking the door

and help this customer. Fucking asshole.

My only comfort is his overbearing ass

strewn all over the produce section. Poisoning

all the shoppers with whatever the fuck disease

I'm sure he has. Fuck it. Number fifteen.

Great this next one has kids....