aSoSS 08 | Shift

You’re my last customer of the year!

Mobil, 4:00PM, 12/29/2023

as you cross a border you realize how much you left on the other side. pockets of people remind you of the little things in life. she will come to work next week; what has changed? the antique clock in the back room needs to be physically adjusted — it cannot handle the shift of the season. like dividing by zero, the clock face freezes, unwilling to continue, unable to comprehend. the cuckoo sings to itself. when the sun rises, the truckers line up for their coffee, now one year old.

See, when the restaurant seats two people at a place for four people, during the rush hour, you know they’re going out of business!

California Pizza Kitchen, 1:00PM, 11/24/2023

the cafe shutters its windows and chains the doors. you used to work there, and i used to order the simplest drinks and pretend that they were spectacularly made. now in place of the latte swans lies a stretch of dust, hold the sugar. i like to imagine someone will buy the land and convert it into a forest. one of the workers is allergic to pollen, i remember. stuck in the heart of the city is the best place for her. count the crows on the parkway — they paved paradise, and put up a parking lot…

Coaches are giving too much info. We just need them to figure it out! Two new plays and a whole new group of defenders come out and get the ball…

Starbucks, 2:00PM, 12/2/2023

just from the phrase, nothing is revealed. the sport remains elusive; the magnitude remains hidden from view. a new year brings a new list of expectations, but what do you do when the expectations exceed reality? i look you in the eye and tell you not to smile, but your eyes betray you. is it the universe hidden behind your iris, or is it glaucoma? as you blink, a third play — a tear.

the tide crashes against the mountain. the wolverine peeks out from beneath the storm. day has its eyes, night has its ears; up above, the howl of a husky splits the sky into two.