Work Text:
You leave to get milk. The sun is beating down and it’s the last thing you’d ever want to do. Your mother forces you to go anyways. You take five steps, fives a nice number you think, very sexy, the delirium is already setting in. You try to remember if you’ve ever had a sense of hope, if you did it’s far gone now.
You’re already 20 steps away from the house. The sun sweltering onto your back as you turn towards the window, inside you see your mother. She gives you the stink eye, man that hurt. You feel as though this might be your last days on earth? Can you even make it down the block?
You finally make it to the start of the sidewalk, past your doorsteps and in front of your house. You look onward, the sun pushing past the tree tops onto the sidewalk below. You feel a sense of deja vu, as though someone you knew had stood there before, in his white shorts and confident pose. You shiver, despite the heat frying your skin. Maybe you should turn back, find sunscreen or an umbrella.
No, it is too late for that, you’re a block away, a distance you never dreamed possible. Maybe you’ll die out here. Far from home. You hear the sound of your feet hitting the pavement, focusing on that might help preserve your sanity. You feel the 10 dollar bill in your pocket, a light crinkling sound. Your mouth is so dry.
Now you’re a block away from the convenience store. The 3 blocks you walked were a blur. Perhaps you never went anywhere. Who says what you’ve experienced was true? Hysterical excitement fills your brain. The thought that you’ll enter an air conditioned building gives you the hope you thought faded away the moment you left your home.
You push through the door, a rush of hot air passes over your already warm skin. You stop dead in your tracks.
“W-where, is the air conditioning,” you whisper, in disbelief. The lady tells you it’s been broken for the past 3 days, someone is coming to fix it tomorrow. You fall to your knees, in mind’s eye. You wouldn’t do that in public. Or would you? You don’t even know who you are anymore.
Then you are struck with an idea. You push yourself to the back of the store, towards the coolers. Internally you scream with pure bliss. The coolers! Finally you’ll be cold! You get the milk, and restore your humanity. After paying for the milk you had struggled with what has felt like decades to reach, you soon realize what awaits you outside again.
You swallow hard, closing your eyes, softly hugging the jug in your arms. Outside you go.