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Selling our Geekhood Before
POV: 3rd

Another day breaks amid the slamming waves and the antics of the various rubbish eaters that litter this fine city. The morning light flows down the wide and narrow streets rushing toward the ocean and to the beach litter with the refuse of a previous nights party. Already workers drive machines over clearing the sand and making it ready for few people to observe since fall has broken and the pristine beach will be without the traffic of tourists.

Amid all the morning's excitement we come upon Lo wandering the tree-lined lanes and whistling a song of youth. He pauses and stares across the street at the large high school he attended what seemed like a life time ago. Everyone he knew has graduated and only the teachers would harbor any kind of memory of him.
If even they did.
He continues walking, down streets and avenues. Distantly blinded by the reflections of the morning's light he sees a familiar building.
Quickly.
Closer.
As he goes around he sees that it's different.The pool hall that he had spent nearly the whole summer before school now a convince store. He walks in and pays the 2 dollar something for "fresh" brewed coffee and a day old doughnut. The cashier looks familiar but neither one tries to make any kind of conversation other then the amount and the change. Even that seems stressed against the hum of the lights. Lo grabs a free newspaper on the way out and sits on the curb in front and slowly sips the coffee and eats the doughnut.
He looks out on the street as a police car pulls up and both officers walk past him without incident as Lo starts reading the Point Shopper. Nothing new lines the pages until he comes to an article on sand castle building and sees a name under a photo. He rereads the line time after time until finally he puts down the paper and wanders over to the pay phone. The receiver feels of congealed soda and probably other fluids that are better left unthought of, Lo calls the Shopper but only gets the recorded hours. So he starts the walk toward the distant offices of the Point Shopper.

© Sal Ponce 2001