In a Dog-Eat-Dog World in Short Stories

The solitary mind is a vulnerable thing. Rare delusions which doubtless infiltrate one’s grasp on logic and rationality are only compounded by the asexual reproduction of thought. Like metastatic cancer, even a seemingly harmless delusion can come to rot a lonely man’s mind. Rot, however, does not kill a man. Rot makes him a leper– widening the gap between him and normalcy. It is only by divine intervention that this man may be so fortunate to find another with a mind similarly warped and rotted.
This is the story of that man and the gods that gave him more than he deserved.

Every night, Elijah falls through pure blackness like a penny down an endless well. He never remembers exactly when his descent must end, but, boy, does he know how it feels. And, without a second’s warning, his back muscles spasm and his adrenal glands release a toxic dose of adrenaline– rudely waking him from his already-tumultuous slumber.
It’s called a “Kindness Clock”– an alarm clock that shocks you awake so as not to disturb your podmate. Everyone has a podmate nowadays. That is because the year is 2089 and Earth’s population has reached 11.5 billion. And, while Elijah is not required to own a “Kindness Clock”, he simply loathes to be responsible for the suffering of others.
Elijah flattens his hair into place and nabs his jacket from the coat hanger before leaving the pod. At 5 am, he takes his seat on the empty train heading towards downtown Pittsburgh. As he reclines in his seat, the thought that he might still be asleep drifts through his mind. The scene just seems to him so hauntingly unreal with its still air and tall shadows cast by waning moonlight. He is, however, reminded of the day’s brutal honesty when he comes to his stop almost a half hour later. The train doors open, and, with the nonchalant manner of an everyday routine, he walks to the bagel shop where he earns minimum wage and gets to work.
He preps the kitchen, sets up the display boards, stocks the sandwich counter, and fills the coffee maker. Then, he waits. It is 6:30 am and the sun hesitantly makes its morning ascension, filling the streets with its feeble light. It is 7:30 am and his manager arrives– each black hair on her scalp protruding with independent motivation and charcoal eye liner exacerbating her fixed semblance of exhaustion. She takes a seat behind the cash register, grabs a cup of coffee, and, together, they wait.
Minutes– maybe hours– go by before she issues a phlegm-filled grunt and shouts across the counter, “Hey, you! The boss wanted me to tell you to stop putting so much cream cheese and toppings on the customers’ orders. He’s Jewish, ya know!”
Elijah replies without emotion, “Okay.”
As if his name was not Jewish enough to suggest her joke might not be well-received by his audience, she continues cackling at her ingeniously archaic observation until phlegm catches in her throat to extinguish her amusement with a hacking smoker’s cough. Elijah, however, does not feel dejection towards his manager’s comments. In fact, he feels relief– relief that a fifty something year old woman like her, with all her prejudices and animosity, ends up as a bagel shop manager as opposed to a politician or philosopher. Although, the fact that he now has to skimp on the customers’ orders certainly makes him feel like scum– if not, scum-adjacent. So, with routine sluggishness, the morning trudges along with a trickling of customers being duped into shilling out $6 for a stale bagel with a scraping of cream cheese and a sliver of lox.
It is 10:30 am and Elijah’s soul-crushing shift comes to an end. He clocks out, grabs his jacket, lobs a “See ya tomorrow” to the manager, and heads out into the brisk autumn morning. As he approaches the crosswalk, he takes out his phone to check the address for his coffee date at 11 am.
He doesn’t typically go on dates; in fact, he has never been on a date in his life. A girl called “Shay” liked his “outgoing personality” when they first met at baseball practice so she asked him out for coffee. While dumbfounded by being termed “outgoing”, he still found the gesture very flattering; so, he accepted her offer and she sent an address.
Elijah approaches the Starbucks coolly. He’s 10 minutes early, but still scans the crowd for Shay. Her raven-haired head is nowhere to be seen, so he orders a $2 drip coffee and finds a seat. He pulls out a book and sets to reading while he waits. Fifteen minutes pass, so he gets up, gives the shop another look, and resumes his seat. He waits almost another 15 minutes while keeping an eye on the door before she walks in. He waves his arm to get her attention and she strides right up to the table. Setting her bag down on the adjacent chair, she says, “Give me a sec. I’m gonna get a drink. You want anything?”
He raises his half empty cup of coffee and she leaves to get herself a coffee of her own.
Elijah tries to read a little more from his book while waiting, but she returns to the table before he finishes even one page, iced caramel macchiato in hand. “Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t realize how many Starbucks were in this area!”
With a well-meaning smile, he replies, “Don’t worry about it. I had some time to spare after work anyways”, and with a smirk, he continues, “But, how could you not have realized how many Starbucks there are? There’s literally a Starbucks on every corner.” “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. But, I certainly wish I came up with Starbucks as a business idea. I’d be filthy rich!” She laughs maniacally and he holds in a giggle at her expense. “So, I take it that you study business.” “Yep. I mean, there’s really no other way to make money nowadays. Don’t ya think?”
Her gall almost makes him choke on his coffee as he jokingly stammers, “Well, I study mechanochemistry, so I guess I won’t be making any money.”
Shay replies with pretend remorse, “I meant business and mechanochemistry!”
He feigns relief at her statement as if her words are gospel and a slightly awkward silence falls between the two of them. “So, uhm, you mentioned you had work this morning? Where do you work?” “Yeah, I work at the bagel shop on Craig– ‘The Bagel Factory’– you’ve heard of it?” “I’ve seen it, but I’ve never been inside.” “Good. The food’s not worth your money. I should know since– well– I work there.”
Shay glares at him teasingly, “If you work there, can’t you make the food better or something? Why’s it not worth the money?” “Well, I’m really not allowed to give the customer a decent portion. My boss has security cameras placed to make sure employees do a mediocre job. It’s a real dirt place to work.”
Elijah sinks back in his chair expecting hearty agreement from his counterpart. To his surprise, Shay crinkles her forehead, choosing the role of devil’s advocate over friendly ally, “Well, they’re still in business; so, it seems like doing a mediocre job is what’s keeping them afloat.”
Baffled, Elijah challenges, “What? You think short-changing the customer is alright if it means the business doesn’t go under? You think a business without integrity deserves to remain in business?”
Shay takes the defensive, “If a business can get away with it, why not? It’s a dog-eat-dog world and if people are willing to pay for garbage, then the smartest thing you can do is open up a garbage shop.” Smug with her superior knowledge of the world, she continues, “Look, you can’t blame people for looking out for themselves and their interests. People are selfish; that’ll never change.”
Both of them slump back in their chairs and silently decide to agree to disagree as they suddenly become intent on nursing their coffees. The tension diffuses soon enough and the conversation trails into other areas of banality– minus the heated debate. However, it’s evident to Elijah that Shay is a different breed. Shay is an evolved human who can accept the horrible world without it tearing her to pieces so she lacks not only the motivation to make it a better place but also the faith that humans are even capable of such a progressive feat.
At noon, Shay leaves with a cordial “goodbye”. Elijah decides to stay and get some schoolwork done. So, he pulls out his augmented reality glasses and begins by reading his emails. He scans through them before finding an odd message about some orders he’s supposedly made on his Calloris account. He signs in to find over $200 of non-refundable orders being sent to Thailand. So, with a wave of virulent cortisol, he flies into action, calling the Calloris Customer Service number to try cancelling what orders he can– to no avail. He, then, settles for changing the password on his Calloris account.
He breathes out and loosens his grip on the table knowing he’s done all he can do. But, as the realization that he’s just lost a week’s wages hits him, his hands cradle his head. Trembling with rage and an urge to vomit, he firmly grips his hair and clenches his toes as he tries to manually reset his endocrine system. But, knowing the only way forward is through acceptance, he thinks of those who are less fortunate; thereby making his emotions and situation seemingly insignificant. Now, feeling more like a kid crying over his stolen lollipop, he continues his work. After three hours of reading, writing, and revision, Elijah takes off his glasses and tucks them into his jacket pocket. He looks around at all the other coffee shop patrons with their identical glasses sitting firmly atop their identical noses and hopes the work they do is honest.
Elijah lifts himself up from his chair feeling ten pounds heavier, endeavoring only to get home, eat, watch TV, and sleep an eternity away before getting up for work the next morning. He walks out of the shop seeing a sea of similarly contoured faces being worn like masks and speed-walks to the train station so as not drown in it. As he waits for his train, he witnesses a parting of the sea– a disturbance in its conformity.
A woman clutches her backpack with vehement determination as a faceless man attempts to wrestle it away from her. The horde of lookers-on avoid the scuffle as if it were a lover’s quarrel, but Elijah rushes to the scene to aid the woman’s side in the tug-of-war. The assailant forfeits his attempt and simply jogs away from the mess of his making. The woman composes herself with the relief afforded to her and Elijah turns to walk away, seeing his train approach the station. She quickly notices his absence and runs after him. She calls out with an air of serenity and poise, “Wait!”
Elijah turns around expecting a trivial reward for his chivalry, but she continues, “I wanted to say ‘thank you’. Not only for helping me back there, but for being a light in the darkness– ya know, for being kind and selfless when no one else could care less. I guess, it just gives me a bit of hope. So, thanks again.”
Genuine joy pulls at the corners of his mouth, “Oh, no problem. My name’s Elijah. What’s your name?”
She shares in his joy and smiles, “Elisha.”