Waiting In Line

There I was standing in line for my dinner meal at the local food hand out. It was the middle of December and there was three people behind me and more than I could count in front of me. God's Will was located in an indisclosed alley that was only found by the most needy. A rotten stench drifted into our mouths from the sea of garbage all around us. It reminded me that it had been almost a day without food for my stomache.

"Why is this line moving so slowly?" the women behind me complained under her breath. I began to reply untill I realized that wasn't the question we should be asking. I wondered why the line was so long to begin with. Usually the poor weather conditions weed through the crowd, getting rid of those who aren't as hungry as they seem. Leaving food for the most desperate of cases. That wasn't the case that night.

The line of hopeless faces was silent. Each second felt like an eternity. There had been many visitor's that night to God's Will and we all knew that behind those doors the food was running out. With each person only looking out for themselves, we stood in that line with no converstation or contact whatsoever. The line grew tense as another one of us was let inside.

From behind a dumpster came a horrible noise, a noise that sounded through the whole alley and echoed off the old brick buildings. It broke the silence. The last time I heard a noise such as this was in a nightmare I had two nights before that involved demons dragging me to hell. We all watched as two dogs came out from behind the dumpster, thrashing their jaws at one another. Screeching and snarling, they stumbled into our view. A box of moldy Chinese takeout seemed to be the prize of this dispute. Each dog took a bite out of the other one untill there was nothing but a couple of corpses and pool of blood that ran down the ground and met the now, worthless box of noodles. All of us stood there without a word to say. The intense situation in front of us must have proved that we weren't the only ones suffering. You could say we enjoyed it.

Before any of us could give a statement that could hide our true feelings in order for us to seem human again, another noise caught our attention. This time the noise was much more familiar but still not pleasant. It was the scream from a women at the front of the line. She cried out, "My baby, my baby!" followed by, "Why won't you wake up!" The screaming stopped and violent sobbing started. The air was bitterly cold that night.

I turned around and decided to journey to the place I call home. I lost my appetite.



I read Stillwater and The Red Dress. Both entertained me. I read parts of other short stories too. I didn't emulate any of the authors' styles, although they did inspire me. I don't know why I chose this topic but it worked. I decided to pick a setting, then a voice and put myself in that place. Then I imagined the smells and noises that surrounded me and that formed a story. At the same time, I was able to leave some things up to the readers imagination.