Lower back pain, disengaging, meeting two years later, survival, lies, and forgetfulness. I forget, when I am in there, that a world exists outside. The only help is the open door, but I am rarely close. Why is every moment filled with fear? Why can I think of nothing but things? And why then, when I leave my shift, when I am customer, not counter girl, do I feel disgusted by the entire ordeal, and wish to shop elsewhere? A job at my favorite store indeed.
