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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “I wrote this in the dark” Down in the Dirt, v207 (5/23) Order the paperback book:

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Breakdown

Isaac Breaux

    You’re pushing your shopping cart down the cold, sterile aisles of the supermarket. One of the wheels must be broken, as it’s constantly making a ‘chunka chunka chunka’ noise. Just as you’ve learned, you’re not looking anyone in the eyes, your gaze focused directly downwards on the strange pattern in the linoleum. Red square, red square, white square. You’re sure the whole floor looks like a candy cane, but you wouldn’t dare look up to confirm.
    “Excuse me, sir, would you like a free sample?!”
    A voice comes from your left, loud and intimidating. You freeze, dread suddenly coursing through your veins. You keep your gaze locked on the floor, hoping he’ll just go away.
    He interrupted, “Hey, uh, you alright..?”
    Another wave of dread. Every word is like a needle being driven into your skull. You muster up the courage to swipe a sample, shoving it in your mouth and mumbling a ‘thank you’. You don’t even register what you just ate.
    The worker responds, “...Did you just eat the paper? You’re supposed to take that off before you eat the muffin- You... look a little pale. Do you need me to call someone?”
    You’re getting looks, now. Each pair of eyes is boring into you, desperate to find out what’s wrong with you. Voices and sounds surround you, swirling around your mind until they become incomprehensible, just an overwhelming mess of noise and color that swears up and down that it’s ‘so worried about you!’. You can’t tell up from down. You think you’re going to be sick. You abandon your cart and run out of the store. You practically fall into the hot leather driver’s seat, the day-old, uneaten Wendy’s sitting next to you and the general messiness of your vehicle bringing you a familiar comfort. You shift into reverse.
    Maybe tomorrow will be better...

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