1.

He worked the closing shift. He hated it. Not because of the lateness of the hours. He liked the night. He found it comforting. Like something you could hide your identity in. The darkness concealed features you would otherwise notice. Like acne. In the dark, you don't notice it.

It wasn't because of the lack of customers. Lack of customers was actually the upside. He hated the customers. Hated them all. Except for his "2000th customer". She was the only one he liked seeing. Most of the people you just wanted to shout at, but couldn't, because you would get in big trouble if you did.

It wasn't because of the management. At 10 o clock, all the higher ups retired upstairs to close the office, and he had basically free run of the place until they were done.

He hated it because there was never anything to do. Sure, he could bring in his computer, and usually did. He would work on one of his stories, or play a game if none of the strict higher ups were around, but after ten o clock, business seriously drops off, and theres usually only about ten people the rest of the night.

His name was Collins, and he hated his job.

2.

Today was just peachy keen.

He had overslept this morning, and having done so, he had a headache. One which would only affect him when he didn't think about it. As soon as he stood up out of bed at 12:07 PM, the headache left, but he knew it would be back. He had no doubt. He reached over, intending to turn on the radio, and saw that the LED display had gone out. Briefly, he wondered why, and his thoughts were answered by a boom of thunder, outside his window.

The power was out. How thrilled he was by that. No televsion, which meant he couldn't watch any of his Mystery Science Theater 3000 videos; No radio, so he couldn't listen to some tunes; No computer, no internet, no cuddling with his girlfriend. He breathed a sigh, and hoped the day would get better.

He read a little (Rose Madder, by Stephen King) and when his headache snuck back up on him, decided to go out for a while. He walked through the rain to his car, and got in. Then he realized that the day before, the sky had looked so bright and cheery, that he didn't think about rolling up his window.

The passenger seat was drenched. The drivers side was only partly dry. He felt like a moron. A total moron. He put his jacket down on the seat, and sat on it. He started up his car, and noticed that the middle Marathon Sticker on his car was coming off. He made a mental note to himself to reinforcce it with Invizo-tape, then realized he would probably never get around to it, even if he did remember.

The car smelled terrible. He would have rolled the windows down, but the rain was still falling.

"LOVE IS LIKE A SHADOW ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE!" The CD player was playing at what had to be an unholy level, and his headache returned with a vengeance. He closed his eyes for a minute after turning it down to a barely audible level and regained his composure. Bonnie Tyler was belting out that her heart was being totally eclipsed.

Collins felt that way about his head.

He left his neighborhod with no vague idea where he was going. He would probably pick up his check from work (it was Tuesday after all) and then go down to Best Buy to see what new games they had in.

His headache mocked him for no good reason.

Five minutes later, he was pulling into the parking lot of his place of employment (though privately he referred to it as the HELLHOLE OF THE GALAXY). He parked his car, and got out. He adjusted his shades and stepped inside.

Great, he thought, It's hot in here. Just flamin' great.

As his mind was wont to do, he tuned into the music playing over the intercom and recognized the song, though he wished he hadn't. Rod Stewart singing Ooh La La. How he hated Rod Stewart.

He walked over to customer service and asked for his check.

And of course, the checks hadn't come in yet. His headache gave him a little reminder of Hey! I'm still here! and then retreated again. He glanced down at his watch. It was 1:45. he had to be back here in 2 and a half hours. How he hated his job.

He left dejected, since his plan was now ruined. As he left, he heard that commercial he hated so much, the one with the whiny "HEY MOM!!!!" brat kid. How he wanted to run a pen through that kid's eye. It would be fitting. He felt like running a pen through his own eye every time that commercial comes on. It came on every half an hour. Every other half an hour, that stupid Chicken of the Sea commercial came on, oh he hated that place.

He got back in his car, noticed that his jacket was beginning to soak through, and sighed. He started up the car.

"BABY, BABY, I WANT SOMETHING ELSE-" Music blared at another unholy level, bringing rise to his head ache. Who kept turning up his radio? What sick game was this? He took a deep breath, and thought about his girlfriend, now in the middle of spring break, and visiting her grandparents up north. He hadn't talked to her in half of forever it seemed like, and he didn't even have anything to remind him of her while she was gone.

She had some stories he had given her last weekend, so she would be able to remember him if she got to missing him, but that didn't help him any.

He pulled out of the parking lot and turned right toward the freeway. He had gone about ten feet when the car ahead of him broke hard, and he had to brake hard to to keep from running into it. He felt like cursing, but he rarely did. Only when he was at the very last thread of his patience did he curse.

The red light up ahead turned green, and the cars went. Except for the car in front of him. The lady was looking into her rear view mirror, applying lipstick. For one second, he was tempted to pull forward until he bumped her, but decided against it.

He honked his horn.

The lady looked forward, and saw that there were no cars in front of her. She went. Collins began to move, just as the light turned yellow, watched the lady speed through, and then stopped before he ran the red light. He slammed a palm down on his steering wheel and called the lady a motherless goat kissing trolloc.

And so he sat. His head pounded every now and then, and the light stretched out. He felt like kicking in his teeth. The light went on. How long was this bloody light? He had been sitting there for almost five minutes.

A voice spoke in his head, and he recognized it as his ex-girlfriends voice. She had said it to him as they were pulling out of Barnes and Noble, on the way to drop her off.

"Some stop lights are longer then others." He had grinned then, but he grimaced now. That wasn't the sort of thought he wanted to have while he was single, and missing her. It wasn't going to help him any.

He missed her so much.

Finally, the light turned green. He went and turned left onto the freeway. four exits up, and he would be where he needed to be.

3.

As if he hadn't suffered enough (indeed, he would suffer much more before this day was through), there was a wreck less then one exit up the freeway. Traffic jam. Words from the Weird Al song ran through his head, counterpoint to the song coming from his radio.

I haven't moved one inch from this here spot (honk honk) Traffic jam. The freeway's one big parking lot (honk honk) Traffic jam. Well I thought we were moving, but I guess were not, and I'm stuck right here in the middle (right here in the) Stuck right here in the middle of a traffic jam.

After about ten minutes of the same part running through his head, he was about to get out and walk. His head thrummed momentarily, and then was silent, and the song was gone.

The traffic inched forward, slowly, insanely. He wanted to scream.

Finally, fifteen minutes later (Geez, twenty-five minutes total to go one exit up the freeway), he was at the wreck, and he was moving forward. As most wrecks are, traffic is slagged behind the wreck, but after the wreck, there was ridiculously little traffic. He didn't know where it went, and he didn't really wat to know.

Right now, he just wanted to be at Media Play. He wanted to be seeing if he could find his own personal copy of StarCraft for Macintosh. So down the freeway he went, and got of at the appropriate exit. He turned right, and immediately hit more heavy traffic.

He slumped back against his seat, and turned the music down. He rubbed at his eyes, only to have to open them again a few seconds later when the car behind him honked for him to go. He went passed under the light, and slowed as traffic clumped again. It didn't stop, it just clumped. This, to Collins, was worse then being stopped. Though you were moving forward, you were moving so slowly, and you had to keep yoru foot on the brake so you didn't hit the car in front of you. If your leg got tired of being held up, tough noggies. Deal with it.

So Collins limped along for the next few minutes until finally he got to the turn he needed to get to, and turned right onto the street. Then he had to wait for cross traffic to clear so he could turn left into the Media Play parking lot. Once there, he got out of his car, into the rain, and ran to the door. He opened it and went inside. He went straight to the computer games, and looked. There was StarCraft, but for Windows. He gritted his teeth.

He looked, hoping maybe there was a hybrid version, but of course, there wasn't. He looked behind all the boxes of Windows StarCraft, but couldn't find the Mac version.

He groaned to himself and walked out of the store.

Back through the rain.

Back into his car. Ahhhh, the smell of wet upholstery.

Start the car up, turn down the radio, feel the headache.

He pulled back out, and now had to deal with the ever pleasing job of turning left onto Barett Parkway. At least here there was a light. It wouldn't be possible without one, he thought.

He waited at the light, and it turned green, and the people ahead of him went. He came forward, and then had to brake as the light turned yellow, and then red stopping him at the front of the line for the wait through the light.

He was going to scream, he knew it.

Finally, the light turned green, and he turned, changed into the middle of three lanes, and stopped after travelling about 25 yards.

Traffic was jammed up due to a car wreck up ahead. He could feel the scream building.

He sat in his car with his music playing softly, and waited it out, growing more perturbed by the second. He looked at the clock. 2:30. When he left home, it had been 1:30. Traffic was killing him, and he had to be at work in an hour and half.

He really didn't want to work.

He watched the wipers swishing back and forth against his windshield, and sighed. Up, down, up down. Up down, up down. Then, the weird thing happened. The wipers flicked up, and the sky was clear. Just like that. A clear sky. The road was clear, and he was there, watching a car drive across the road. on a cross street. Then the wiper swiped down, and it was all gone.

He blinked and shook his head. Momentary day dream. That's all it was. Had to be.

Or he was going crazy. He slammed the door on that particular line of thinking.

Finally he got up to the wreck, and decided to take a look at it, since that was what everyone else was doing, but didn't see anything spectacular. Just a bunch of people standing around talking to the police.

He sighed. People got keyed up over the most trivial things.

Finally, he got back to the freeway onramp, and got on. He headed down the freeway, and ten minutes later, he was at his exit. He got off, and turned left, actually running a red light, but he didn't really care. He headed down the street, and about a mile down, hung a right into his neighborhood, and three minutes later, he was home.

He parked his car in the garage, and rolled the windows down, giving the car a chance to air out.

He went back into the house, and immediately went up to his room. He laid down on the bed, and took a nap.

4.

After what seemed like only a few minutes, the phone rang. He staggered over to his phone, and, eyes still closed, picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi. Where are you?"

He didn't recognize the voice.

"Uhhh... at home. Why? Who's this?"

"Nathan."

"Nathan...."

"At work."

"Work....?" He glanced down at his watch. 4:30. "Oh crap!"

"Yeah, no joke there. You coming?"

"Yeah yeah... I'm on my way."

"Good. See you soon."

"Yeah, uh huh."

click.

Collins rushed to get ready, throwing on his work shirt, and pants. He ran a comb through his hair, not really caring about his appearance for now, and went downstairs. He went out into the garage and got into his car, still smelling of wet upholstery, jacket still soaking through, and started it up.

He pulled out of the garage, and drove to work.

5.

He walked up to the door of his work, and sighed. He really didn't want to work today. He looked down at the small garden rakes, and garden hoes, and whatevers, and laughed, wishing he could just five minutes to live outside the law. He clocked in, went up stairs, and Nathan handed him his till. He went downstairs, signed on to register five, and went into business mode. That meant he was putting out a semblance to cheeriness, and an "I love my job" attitude. Having to be there till midnight, being dead tired, and having a headache, on top of the day he had already wasn't helping any.

As a result, he wasn't really smiling, he was talking in a monotone, and he was generally projecting an air of "I don't want to be here, but I have to pretend like I'm in a good mood, so this is what you get, deal with it."

"HEY MOM!!!! LOOK AT THIS BOX OF LIFE CEREAL! IT SAYS I CAN WIN A CONTEST, AND GET OVER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE "MY KID LOVES LIFE" CONTEST!"

He gritted his teeth against the commercial, knowing he would hear it at least 20 more times that day.

His bad mood wasn't helped any when he saw Michelle walk in.

Michelle was one of the Assistant Head Cashiers, and when Nathan wasn't around, she was in charge. Collins hated when she was in charge, because she was lazy.

When she was in charge, she would enforce pointless rules, make up new ones to fit her mood, wander off at crucial moments, and in general do as little as possible, and still be considered working.

He could have hit her.

So, when she came walking into the store, Collins prayed that she was here just to talk to Nathan about the schedule, or to pick up her check.

Then she clocked in, and Collins almost cried. He REALLY didn't want to deal with her.

She went upstairs, and a few minutes later, Nathan came downstairs, clocked out, tossed his nametag up on the timeclock, tossed a salute to Collins, and then walked out.

Collins sighed inwardly, and buckled down, pulling out his reserves of patience, and fortifying his fraying nerves.

"Ask any mermaid, you happen to see, what's the best tuna? Chicken of the sea!"

The smarmy radio jingle played through the store, and Collins knew he would hear this one about 20 more times today too.

He sighed and went back to work.

A couple minutes later, he heard an insane kind of giggling, and then it stopped.

Oh no, thought he. Please not those....

The giggling started up again, and he prayed he wouldn't hear those two words.

The laughter stopped.

"That tickles!"

Collins groaned and rolled his eyes up into his head.

The stupid toys were back. They were there every Christmas, every New Years, Every Valentines day, and then again at Easter.

The stupid toys who would laugh, stop, laugh, and then say That Tickles, or Merry Christmas, or Happy Valentines Day, or whatever holiday it was.

He sighed to himself, and went back to ringing customers through. He looked down the line of customers at his register, and sighed, wishing he had a bagger.

"HEY MOM!!!! LOOK AT THIS BOX OF LIFE CEREAL! IT SAYS I CAN WIN A CONTEST, AND GET OVER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE "MY KID LOVES LIFE" CONTEST!"

Then, the lady he feared and dreaded the most stepped into his line, and he almost screamed at her to go somewhere else.

This lady almsot has a schedule. Every Wednesday, at 4 30. She walked in the door, and took a cart. Then, she proceeded to the ATM and pulled out money. (she always paid in check, so where the money goes, he didn't want to know). Then, she wanders off into the store, and an hour later, she comes up the frozen food aisle, and gets into his line. It doesn't matter how many customers are in front of her, doesn't matter how long the wait, she gets in his line.

He has even watched her do it. He has seen her come up the frozen food aisle, and look up and down the registers until she sees him, then she gets into his line.

He sighed inwardly, and cursed her in his head.

He got up to her, and she started to unload her groceries. She put them on the belt, and he started to scan her through.

She picks up a box of noodles, and through whatever sick twist of fate brought THAT box of noodles into HER hand, on THAT day, the box opened and spilled noodles everywhere.

She looked up at him, and he looked at her, telling her with his eyes to clean it up.

"Oops, I spilled some noodles. You'll have to clean that up, I guess." Then she wandered off to get another box of noodles. Collins gaped.

She came back and continued to unload.

He got three-quarters of the way through her order when she just spontaneously left again. He gritted his teeth and finished ringing up what was on the belt, and then went around and started unloading her cart so he could continue his work and get her out of there.

She came back and immediately he left to continue ringing her up.

She didn't apologize, she didn't say a word. She just went back to unloading. He could have whacked her with the celery she was buying.

Finally he got her order all rung up, and she started writing out her check. He started to bag her groceries, and put them in the cart, since he had no room on the counter for the bags.

She watched him, holding onto her check.

He moved around, tok her check, entered it, swiped it, inserted it, and dropped it.

He cleared out the screen, and then went back to bagging.

Fill a bag, place it on the counter, wait for her to take it while filling another bag. Fill a bag, put it on the counter, still waiting for her to take the first bag. Fill a third bag, put it on the counter, still waiting for her to take the first bag, running out of room. Fill a fourth bag, put it on the counter, still waiting. Fill a fith bag, move around the counter, pick up a second bag, and put them both in her cart.

Several long minutes later, and no thanks to HER, he got the order loaded and in her buggy. She turned without a word and walked out of the store.

Collins did not wish her a good day.

"HEY MOM!!!! LOOK AT THIS BOX OF LIFE CEREAL! IT SAYS I CAN WIN A CONTEST, AND GET OVER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE "MY KID LOVES LIFE" CONTEST!"

Collins rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. 5:15. He was off at midnight.

6.

Finally, after an eternity and a half, 7:30 rolled around, and he was allowed to go on lunch. Michelle commanded he be back in half an hour, or it's a write up.

He didn't bother to point out that Michelle would probably take 45 minutes to an hour on her lunch. Heck, why take a lunch? She doesn't work at all. Her shift is one big lunch.

He went back to the deli, picked up two pizza lunchables, and paid for them up front, then went back to the deli to sit, and eat, and rebuild some of his reserves.

He took a bite out of his first pizza when a hand clapped him on the back.; He turned to look, and there was Nathan, and his girlfriend Brandy.

"Oh, hey Nate, what's up?"

"Nothing. Just thought I'd stop by and gloat that I'm done for the day."

"Shut up. I hate this job."

"I know man, I know. Just be glad you aren't Laura Wilson."

"Who's she?"

"She was a cashier who worked here two, maybe three years ago. It was back when I was a cashier, so you know that was a long time ago. Anyway, she was out in the parking lot bringing in carts, when the police pulled a speeder over. He pulled into the parking lot, and when the cops got out to take his license and Insurance, he took off.

"Unfortunately, he wasn't watching where was going, and whack! He hit Laura, and killed her. She was one of the best cashiers we had."

"Wow. Really? Right out in that parking lot?"

"Yep. It really happened. I... I saw it all."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry. That must have been horrible."

"Ehh, I'll survive. but now, you need to get back to lunch, and I need to talk to Michelle. Know where she is?"

"Nope. You know her, clock in, and go to lunch."

"Yeah, I know. Don't complain about it though. You'll survive."

"Maybe."

"You will. Just hang in there, and be patient, and courteous with the customers. I gotta go. Catch ya later."

"Bye. Bye Brandy." She waved bye back.

They left, and he sat alone with his thoughts. Behind him, some stupid customer decided to question him. "Can you tell me where the birthday candles are?" For a second he was tempted to reply Yes, and then not say anything else, but decided to do the courteous thing. He turned around, hoping it was a pretty customer, and not one of the old ugly ladies.

There was no one there.

He got up and looked at the spot where he was sure the voice had come from, but there was no one there. In fact, there was no one on the entire row. He was the only one.

For a second, he thought the voice came from the row over, except that he knew it didn't. He dwelt on it for a second, and then dismissed it, deciding not to think about it any longer.

Are you going crazy?

No.

Okay, if you say so.

He rubbed his eyes, and sat back down. He ate the second of his six pizzas, and then the third. Then he heard footsteps behind him, and saw a reflection of someone walking in the glass soda case to his right. He turned to look back behind him in idle curiosity.

No one was there.

He looked at the case, and saw no reflection, but he knew he saw someone there. He looked up and down the aisle, but there was no one there.

He shook his head again. I always knew there was somethign screwed up with the store. It's haunted.

This thought didn't cheer him any, but it did lend a particular air of mystery to his job now. He cast another glance over his shoulder, but saw nothing out of the ordinary .

7.

He clocked back in, and went back to his register. He turned on his light, and waited for another of those stupid customers to come up.

"HEY MOM!!!! LOOK AT THIS BOX OF LIFE CEREAL! IT SAYS I CAN WIN A CONTEST, AND GET OVER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE "MY KID LOVES LIFE" CONTEST!"

He gritted his teeth.

"Are you open?"

The voice was coming from a lady with a large cart. Once again, Collins wished for a bagger.

Is the light on, moron?

"Yes ma'am. I'm open. I can help you." He pulled out his auxiliary reserves of patience, and shored up his highly frayed nerves.

She began putting up her items, and he began ringing them through.

He got halfway through her order when she looked at him.

"You are going to put my groceries in my cart, right?"

No, I'm going to walk away right now, and let you finish, you freaking idiot.

"Yes, ma'am. I will."

No reply. Just a curt nod. Collins surpressed the urge to scream again.

"Ask any mermaid, you happen to see, what's the best tuna? Chicken of the sea!"

Collins shuddered, and finished with her groceries, and started bagging them while she dug through her purse for her debit card.

An insane giggling started near the front of his register. Oh please God, NO.

He looked, and sure enough, there on the front of his register, placed by God, or the Devil, or some stupid customer, was one of the laughing dolls, giggling moronically in the hands of a woman who was exclaiming over it delightedly.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"It says 'Waiting for cashier.'"

He reached up and moved his hand flawlessly to the EFT button and hit it twice, then put his hand back down, all without opening his eyes.

He heard the lady punching buttons, and then the register start printing, and then a beep.

He looked up, and checked the detail tape to see what had happened.

"Invalid PIN number, it says, Ma'am."

"Oh no, that isn't the wrong number, here, let me try it again. He cleared out the screen, and hit EFT twice, and she punched in her info. Print-print-BEEP.

Invalid PIN. He told her so again.

"No it isn't! All my PIN numbers are always the same, and it's the same with this one! Your machine is broken."

"Ma'am, I can assure you, the machine is not broken." It was a strain to not say anything too derogatory.An argument such as he had ust used would not have been used if he was in a better mood. If there is an Invalid PIN number, the problem is not with our computer, it is with your card, and you bank."

A person in a pink smock moved in behind him, and did something with the receipt paper of the register behind him. He thought it was Leah, another cashier, ut couldn't be sure since he only caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his attention back to the customer.

"No, it isn't. The problem is with your machine, cause I KNOW this is the PIN number!"

He sighed and pulled out his emergency auxiliary backup reserves of patience. He was running dangerously low on tolerance today.

The lady behind her in line decided to amuse herself with the laughing doll and started it up again. Collins tossed an irritated glance at her, but she didn't notice. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of pink as the person who was behind him left. He turned his head in the other direction to see who it was.

As seemed to be the usual for today, no one was there.

Am I goiung crazy?

I think you are.

You don't count. You're a voice.

And you're talking to me. What does that make you?

"Ma'am, the problem is not our computer, and please stop saying it is. Now, it may very well be that you are putting in the right PIN number, but maybe your bank computer is down. I don't know what the problem is, but our computer doesn't have any PIN Numbers in it's memory. We communicate with your bank, which in turn tells us if it is the right PIN number or not. Now, since I have conclusively proved to you that it is NOT our machine, would you like to speak to a manager to have this resolved?"

"No. I know this is the right PIN Number, and I know that your computer is messing up,

("Ask any mermaid, you happen to see, what's the best tuna? Chicken of the sea!")

but I'm going to let it go, and go down to the bank, pull out some money, and come back."

"Okay, that's fine. I'll just suspend your order, and retrieve it when you come back."

She stormed out without saying another word. Collins suspended the order, just as some one smart alec decided it would be really cool if all the laughing dolls went off at once.

He looked back at the stand, and there was Michelle, illustrious, important, Asst Head Cashier, pressing all the buttons, making them all go off at once. He glanced at the cart that the lady had left behind, and then an idea began to form as his eye alighted on one of the objects in there.

He grinned adn then turned to the next lady.

She still wasn't looking at him, but she decided to press the button on the Laughing Doll From Hell anyway. When it was done, she turned toward her friend, and showed it to her. Collins finished ringing up her groceries. She was about to press the button again, but Collins got her attention.

"Ma'am? Could you please not press that button anymore?"

She looked at him, and smiled very sweetly.

And pressed the button.

8.

It was now an hour later, and the lady whose order he had suspended hadn't come back yet. He grimaced to himself, thinking he would have all those go backs to do after midnight, when the store was closed, and that would keep him here even longer.

He kept up with the monotone voice, and the blank look on his face, because any other emotion he showed would have been anger.

He continued to ring up customers, and dealing with the stupid Life kid, and the Chicken of the Sea Singers, and the occasio nal moron who would set off a Laughing Bunny.

The night drew on, and ten o clock came around, and the last cashier left. He was now the sole person on the front end. "Mike, line one." The voice over the intercom made him jump with the suddenness with which it came.

He picked up the phone. "Yeah."

"You busy?" Michelle was apparently ready to do the end of day.

"Nope. Let's do it. Signing off now."

He hung up the phone and signed off his register. He took his till out, put his envelope in it, put the lid on and began to walk to the stairs, just as a customer came into his line. He walked over there, and put the till under his register. "Hi. We just started the end of day, so it'll be about five minutes before I can ring you up."

"Five minutes?"

"Yes sir. We have to shut down all the registers while we do this because otherwise the computer can't tabulate the money.

"There's no other registers you can ring me up on?"

Isn't that what I just said, moron?

"No sir, there aren't. But it will only be three or four minutes at the most."

The guy sighed irritably, and leaned against the register.

Collins leaned on the other side, and waited for Michelle to give him the go ahead.

Another customer came up behind him, and another behind her. The line was building.

Soon, there were five customers in line. One o them wth a huge cart. He gritted his teeth, and silently cursed Michelle.

Finally, she came downstairs with a till, and handed it to him, and went back upstairs leaving him to fend for himself.

He signed back on and began the tedious task of ringing through all the people by himself.

The doors opened, and a couple came in. Thankfully, they didn't take a cart.

He got through the second and third people, and had just started on the lady with the huge cart, when he eard the doors open. He looked up, but the doors were closed. A chill raced through him and he began to get scared. He didn't want to have deal with this when he was alone.

The lady, sensing something was out of place, didn't do anythig to aggravate him, in fact she helped him bag the order, which was a profound relief to him.

After about half an hour of straight ringing up, he finally ran out of customers, and slumped his head. He rubbed at his eyes, and looked out at the parking lot.

The lights were orange. Not the cheery warm glow of the white lights they had out there, these were orange lights, bathing the parking lot in a glow that was very perturbing to Collins.

The lights were sposed to be white, darn it! They were white just a few minutes ago!

He looked down at his register, ad saw a different design on the counter top. Before, it was a kind of mottled, marble kind of shape. Now, though, it was straght white. No design to it. He tok a step back and closed his eyes.

When he opened tem again, everything was back to normal. The lights were white, and the countertop wasn't.

He breathed a sigh, and hugged himself. What was happening to him? and Why?

He heard the door opening, but didn't dare look up, in case he saw the door was closed.

The door closed.

There was the sound of a cart being moved. He opeed his eyes, and there was a lady moving the cart around. He sighed, and felt relief sweep through him. She took the cart, and turned toward the produce section, and began pushing it that way.

Slowly, bit by bit, se faded out, until she was gone. Her and the cart. Just... gone.

He blinked as he watched, but couldn't believe what he had just seen. That was impossible. But it had happened.

He grew a little more scared, and the store got a little colder.

9.

At 11:15, it happened. It happened fast, and he didn't even have time to think about what had happened before it was done. He didn't even kow for sure what he had done until two days later, and by then, it was changed. For the better, as we will see, but changed none the less.

11:10 rolled around, and suddenly, all the lights outside began to go off, one by one. He turned and watched them, as darkness descended over the parking lot, wondering what was going on. Finally, all the lights went off, and then all the lights inside dimmed down, until everything was barely visible.

Then, wth a sudden popping noise, all the lights flicked back on, and he squinted his eyes shut against the suden solar assault.

When he opened them again, he was in the store, but the lights outside were orange, and the countertop was white, and there were ALOT of people in the store. Such that he had never seen that many people this lae at night. There were three registers up and running, all manned by people he didn't recognize.

Except one. He knew one of them. This one stood at about 6 feet, though he knew him as taller. He was a cashier here, but he knew his as the head cashier. there was no mistaking him, even as a young man. that was definately Nathan. He wondered over it for a few minutes, and then looked outside. There was a girl out there, bringing in carts. She was gathering them up at this moment, but in the next, she would be pushing them inside. yep, here she comes. The door opened, and she pushed them inside, and went back out.

As she walked out, she pushed her hair back from her face, and he noticed a scar running along the side of her head. He wondered how she got it, and the next moment, her hair covered it, and she was out the door.

He stepped out after her, following her for some reason he didn't understand.

As he watched her, he heard a police siren go off down the road, and then heard it grow louer. She stopped and watched too. The sirens grew louder until the police car, and another car came into view.

The other car slowed, and pulled over into the parking lot, and parked in an empty spot. The police car pulled rght up next to it, and the officer sat for a moment, talking with his headquarters, preparing to go talk to the man.

The man, from what Collins could see, looked nervous. The oficer stepped out, and began to walk towards the man. As the officer reached the window, the car's brake lights suddenly went out, and with a squeal of tires, the car took off.

The officer jumped back, and drew his gun, aiming for the tires. The man made a sharp turn, and dove down the middle aisle of cars. The policeman fired, and missed. The girl continued to watch, and the policeman fired again.

The bullet tore into the tire, and a clolud of compressed air escaped as the tire blew out. The car skidded, and went into a one-eighty.

Directly toward the girl.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was sprinting across the ground, and toward the girl. He sensed, rather then saw the car as it drew nearer, and he knew exactly how it was going to hit her. It was going to hit her in the hip, and nearly tear her in half. All the damage the car would sustain would be a broken headlight, and a dented hood, from where her head would bounce off.

He saw all of this in a second, and then he was at the girl, and he dived, and tackled her to the ground, seconds before the car hit.

They rolled across the ground, and she fell out of his grip as the car's tires caught his foot, and ran over it, crushing it. He screamed in agony, and then was dragged across the ground, slicing his arms, and chest up.

Finally, the car was past, and he stopped moving. He heard people come rushing out of the store, and heard the girl running over to him. She rolled him over, and smiled at him, called him her hero, and then it all faded out. The lights faded out, and were replaced by the white lights, of the normal parking lot.

He sat up, and looked around. There were no longer any cuts on his arms or chests. His foot was perfectly fine.

There were no cars in the parking lot, no girl nearby, no one watching. He got up, and walked back to the doors, and stepped inside. He looked back outside once, saw rthe lights flicker to orange, and back.

In that flicker, he caught the image of the girl smiling at him.

10.

Two days later, Nathan was in charge, closing the office that night. Collins, during a slow part of the day, on a much better day, went upstairs and knocked on the door. Nathan came over and opened it. Collins walked in.

"I got a question for you, and it has nothing to do with Winn Dixie."

"Alright, I'll answer it if I can."

"Tell me agian about that girl you were telling me about the other day. What did she look like?"

Nathan looked thoughtful for a moment.

"What girl?"

"The one you told me about. Laura something or other. Remember? She died."

"Died? I don't know what you're talking about. Are you talking about Laura Wilson?"

"Yeah! That's her name."

"She isn't dead. Where did you hear that? And why the heck are you acting like you don't know her?"

"You told me that two days ago... Know her? What are you talking about now?"

"You're only in love with her. You said so yourself."

"What? I did."

"You did."

"When was this?"

"Shortly before you two got together. Are you alright?"

"Got together? I don't have a girlfriend!"

"Dude, are you alright? Do you know what's going on?"

"I... I don't know."

Knock knock knock.

Nathan looked up at the door and motioned for Collins to get it. Collins got up and walked over to the door. Through the window on the door, he could see a shock of light brown hair, almost a dark blonde, and then he opened the door, adn there she was.

The girl. She looked at him, and smiled, and pushed back a stray lock of hair. There was a scar on her head, right at her hairline, artfully hidden by her hair. She smiled at him.

"Hey hun. You got a till for me?"

"Uhhhh... sure. Just a sec." He held the door open and she stepped in. He reached over to the safe and pulled a till out for her and handed it to her. She smiled at him again and stepped back out.

Collins turned to Nathan.

"That was her."

"Yeah, good job, Einstein."

Collins thought about it. That night. That strange night. Might it have been some sort of time travel thing? Might he have somehow been teleported back in time, saved her life, and then inbetween then and now, They hooked up together?

It was an interesting thought, and also the only one that fit.

But it was insane wasn't it?

Maybe, but for now, he had the love of a beautiful woman, and it didn't seem to matter that much.