The Dawn

Dawn brings the feeling of freshness. The night air drops its burden of moisture on the ground and the grass inhales in preparation for the hot day ahead. The noxious smell of shampoo wafts upwards as the workers get ready to drag themselves to the office.

The birds don’t mind waking up early. They’re excited to bring in the day and the bounty of insects it’s bound to deliver. The plants are excited to see the sun. Even the clouds are depending on the sunshine to whip up the wind and propel them on their ways.

Dewey hates the dawn because it means he’s out delivering bread. He used to love bread. He used to love the dawn. Now he hates both. At half of his drop-off points he rings the bell and there’s no-one there to let him in. At the other half, there’s someone there, but they can’t be bothered opening the door.

If Dewey doesn’t finish his rounds on time, he gets in trouble. He gets in trouble, he loses his job. He loses his job, he can’t pay alimony. He can’t pay alimony, he goes to prison. Prison means no job ever again.

Dewey shows up at his final drop for the day. The sun is just kissing the horizon. He just saw a girl open the side door to put out some trash. That means there’s someone in there to let him in. She must have seen him backing up in his truck.

Apparently not. He gets out and rings the bell.

Nothing.

He rings the bell again.

Nothing.

Three more times and nothing.

Dewey is on his final notice at work. Too many slow delivery runs. If he doesn’t pick up his game he’ll be terminated straight away.

This last delivery is a corner convenience store. The sun is high in the sky already. The store must be open already. He goes in through the front entrance and confronts the girl that refused to open the delivery door. “Is your bell broken?” He asks. She’s toying with her phone and chewing a piece of gum that she likely stole from the sweet rack on the front counter.”We’ve got enough bread from yesterday. Go away.”

Oh, all the things Dewey would like to do. Grab a loaf of bread and ram it down her throat. Dip a loaf of bread in oil, set it alight and throw it at her face. Cover her in dough and throw her in one of the big bread ovens at the factory. All he did was say “okay.”

Dewey left the truck idling by the back door of the convenience store. He walked towards the nearest hill. He spotted another hill and walked towards that. He kept walking until he could see the sea and after that he slept because it was night.

The next morning, Dewey awoke to the sound of singing birds. He could feel the cold of the dew that had settled on him. He was eager to move and breathe in the cool air. There was no noxious shampoo in the air as he was far from any town. All he needed to live was whatever the land gave him. He was free to love the dawn again.

T

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