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Davis's Dependancy (standard:drama, 476 words)
Author: Otoshi TsunamiAdded: Sep 26 2000Views/Reads: 2235/1Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Davis struggles with his addiction during a long, difficult night.
 



Davis's Dependancy by Otoshi Tsunami 

Darkened grocery stores flashed like billboards on either side of Davis
as he drove through the dark town of Redding, CA.  He was driving fast, 
ignoring lights and signs, looking for a store, any store that might be 
open.  THERE!  A few hundred yards ahead, was that an OPEN sign?  He 
wasn't sure, Davis was unfamiliar with this part of town, but it looked 
promising.  He floored it... YES! 

He quickly parked his car and, not bothering to take the keys out, ran
to the door, triumphant. Wait. He stopped, his hand on the door.  What 
would he say?  He knew what he needed, but how could he tell a 
convenience store clerk?  Why did it always have to be this way, 
difficult? 

He took a breath, sighed, and walked in.  The store was filthy, and
smelled of cigarette smoke, despite the "NO SMOKING" signs posted 
throughout.  A small woman, probably younger than she looked, sat 
behind the counter, an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips, the 
filter soaked through. "I'm trying to quit," she croaked, as if in 
response to Davis's thoughts.  A silence filled the small room as Davis 
looked at the woman, trying to say what he needed.  She wasn't making 
things any easier.  "Welcome to Lucky-Go-Mart," she said, "how can I 
help you?" 

Davis turned to leave.  It wasn't worth it, having to come to a place
like this.  He looked around at the yellowed walls and greasy floor, 
saw the merchandise, caked with oily dust and bearing expiration dates 
suggesting early cold war paranoia.  No.  It wasn't worth it. 

He reached out and touched the door and thought about going home, to his
empty house.  To his television and soiled mattress, everything else 
gone, taken by his wife.  He thought about getting up in how long?  
Four hours.  He couldn't do it, he realized.  He would get what he came 
for.  He would go home and stay up the rest of the night.  And he would 
manage to get to work, late.  He would do it not because he wanted to, 
but because he had to.  "Porn," he said, not looking at the woman. 

Davis drove home slowly.  The paper bag on the seat next to him was
reassuring, he felt calm. He came to a slow stop at a red light and 
looked around at the empty street.  He felt almost euphoric, sitting 
there, alone.  Maybe it was worth it after all.  Maybe he could explain 
things to his wife, maybe she would be willing to come back.  No, he 
realized, I've thought that before, tried that before. 

It was strange, he thought as he pulled away from the light, still red. 
His perpetual realization did not seem to deaden his mood, still 
wondrous.  At least, not yet.  Maybe tomorrow he would call his wife.


   


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