Greetings all,
The Listening Spot is my first publicly shared fictitious story. I’m not entirely sure what it is yet, so I’m not going to label it.
inspired me to write this story through his microfiction challenge. I enjoyed the prompts so much that I decided to write a proper fiction post. Thank you Miguel!Please enjoy this first part. The second part will be published the March 13th. Thank you for reading!
A railway track that extended beyond what I could see. Something wanted me on this path, but I could tell I didn’t want it. With each step I plotted rebellion, yet kept marching forward. This conflict made my journey slow and agonizing. My dream always ended when I resisted the urge to move forward until my muscles seized and my chest heaved. A stalemate…
What a frustrating dream C.J. thought, then dropped his pen and closed his dream journal. He started his journal eight months ago, and this was the 12th time he’d made this entry. All 12 entries aroused a mix of emotions: frustration, helplessness, resistance, and will.
After a quick head shake and a gentle temple rub C.J. tossed the journal onto his bedside table and left for work. His day could only get better from here.
C.J.’s mood hadn’t improved much today, thankfully the day was almost over. There hadn’t been a customer in for about 2 hours, and he was thankful for the reprieve. Just then, he heard the bell.
Ding-ding
If I hear that bell one more time…C.J. turned to greet the customer, “Welcome to ‘The Foot’, how can I help you?” The customer responded, “Good, thanks.” C.J. waited, then tried again, “do you need help with anything?” “I need shoes, this is a good place for shoes, right?” C.J. looked around and shrugged, “yes, the best place in town, hands down.” The customer smiled, “great, I’d like a pair of the Levitators, please.” C.J. cocked his head and said, “do you run much? The reason I ask is there’s another pair half the…” just then Kirk yells from the back, “Excuse me, C.J. can I talk to you please?!” C.J. grimaced at the sound of Kirk’s voice, but told the customer he’d be right back.
Kirk looked annoyed. “Look C.J., it isn’t our job to help our customers make better life choices. We’re here to sell shoes. I’ll take it from here. By the way, I’m going to need you to close up tonight, thanks.” C.J. fumed, a familiar ‘Kirk induced sensation’. In the past he’s handled these emotions in one of two ways; verbal insults, or Herculean efforts of emotional suppression. He chose the latter, this time. “Fine, Kirk, I’ll be in the back handling inventory.” Kirk walked into the back 15 minutes looking very pleased. “Sold the Levitators and some ‘special socks’.” He stared at C.J. for a long time, and then just walked out the back door. C.J. lost time organizing shoe boxes and tidying up the shop in a haze indifference.
Ding-ding
Perfect, I forgot to lock the door. C.J. yells, “we’re closed!” as he jogged to the front of the shop. A woman’s voice shouted, “don’t worry, I know what I want! Would you please grab me a pair of the ‘Unfettered’, size 10?!” C.J. was impressed, whoever this was knew their shoes, he grabbed a pair on his way. As he turned the corner he saw his favorite customer of all time, Penelope. Penelope shopped for shoes every quarter, without fail. She was a constant reminder of just how long C.J. had been employed by ‘The Foot’, and the only time he wasn’t tortured by thought of leaving this job.
“Hey Penelope, how’s it going? Back so soon?” he said with a smirk. “Well you know, your shoes are an extension of your foot”, she said a little too seriously. Then continued, “I just run a lot, that’s all.” I guess she had no idea I was joking. C.J. asked another question to defuse his irritation, “miles and miles of asphalt and concrete doesn’t that get boring?”
“Well sure… if that’s what I did, I’d be bored. So, I don’t do that. I trail run whenever I can. There’s actually a lake a few hours north of here, I spend most of my weekends up there running through the beautiful scenery. You should check it out some time.” C.J. stared at Penelope, daydreaming about the lake. Penelope waited for a couple of seconds then impatiently tapped her credit card on the counter, that sound brought him back to reality.
“Right, of course, maybe I’ll check it out. Can I get you anything else Penelope?”
“No thank you, have a great night, C.J.”
C.J. flashed a quick smile and waved goodbye. As he locked-up he watched Penelope walk to her car and wondered; how long until she notices the note and my phone number written on that receipt.
C.J. really hated closing the shop. There was something so demoralizing about working the sunlight to moon rise shift. But, if he had to do it, Monday nights worked best. Tuesday was his day off, so he could sleep in a bit.
This makes me so happy! I The fact that Microdosing inspired you so much, you wrote a bigger piece on it is worth more than any number of subscribers or likes it generates. I can't really explain how stoked I'm right now. Going to give this a proper read!
Great to see how far you have come! Due to some circumstances, the mental and emotional exhaustion and the loss of motivation, I stopped writing to prompts, and now I am finding it very difficult to jump back on track.
Waiting for the second part! Good luck!