this wasn't home. the air bore a thick, fleshy odor, trash lined the gutters, and the sky was always overcast. the foods stocked on the grocery store shelves had strange names and they tasted even more bizarre when cooked.
mike stood outside the convenience store in his xenophobic bubble, studying the distinguishing elements of the town he now called home. he could appreciate the kids running through the streets after school, he guessed. the music blaring from cars passing by was familiar, too.
mike took a long drag from his cigarette (lonesomeness breeds new vices) and blew the smoke skyward. he peered over his shoulder every few minutes, nervously waiting on his friend, poppy, to exit a nearby convenience store. in the heart of a low-income neighborhood, mike stood as an anamoly -- navy suit, leather Grafton Industries portfolio, and designer eyewear. mike took another drag from the cigarette and a few ashes fell onto his shoes. he cursed aloud as he wiped the debris aside, revealing rock salt stains in the worn leather.
i need to take a weekend to fly back, he thought. this isn't home.
mike's blackberry vibrated on his hip. he pulled it from its holster to see a new e-mail from his sister, victoria.
From: Victoria [mailto:vhalloway@yahoo.com] Sent: Monday, January 07, 2005 9:42 AM
To: Michael Halloway
Subject: B-day Pictures
Hey Mike,
I hope work is going well.
I've attached some pictures from Jonathan's 1st birthday party. We all miss you so much! Mom wants to know if you'll be able to come home soon, too. Call her ASAP.
Love,
Vic
mike gazed at the screen and flicked his thumb, quickly closing the message. his sister and mother had a way of making him feel guilty about his work-life balance, even though he was thousands of miles away from home. he wished they were more undestanding of his career -- his opportunity. he'd be home soon.
at the end of the busy block, mike noticed a pair of malnourished dogs gnawing at bits of garbage spilling over from a bin. as one began to choke on a bone fragment, the other noticed him and began charging in his direction. mike's eyes widened as he shifted his portfolio to his right hand and clutched it close to his knee. the other dog followed, and soon mike was face to face with both his red-eyed, yellow-toothed, snarling adversaries.
he swung his portfolio wildly and stomped his feet in their direction. passersby stopped at laugh at the display -- an out of place, high brow businessman armed with office supplies to ward off starving dogs. before he could pull his ballpoint pen, mike saw an object shoot over his right shoulder. it was poppy and he'd thrown a morsel of food to get the dogs to scatter.
doubling over laughing, poppy watched as mike calmly straightened his suit and wiped his brow.
"good thing i bought a coffee cake, huh?" poppy said, smiling. "can't leave you alone out here. too dangerous."
"let's just go," said mike, adjusting his glasses. "let's grab something to eat so i can call it an evening. i have a project to work on later."
as they started down the block, mike's blackberry vibrated again. his ambivalence wouldn't allow him to wouldn't allow him to tell his family to wait just another day.
