Shifty "unfinished"

I like to walk down the alleys

all you really have to do is pretend you belong.

I'm not good for much, but I can do that pretty well usually.

Especially if you "stand out"

Being in the shadows is always more comfortable for people like me...

If you can even call me a people, I'm really not sure anymore.

I think I used to be, but I don't remember ...

I breathe a heavy sigh, noticing smoked hickory, peppers, and sugar sweetness in the air,

a bit too much burn on some things, they probably need to clean after cooking all day ...

I try to be picky when I can be, it makes up for all the times I don't get to be.

My eyes shift towards the bbq food truck parked to the left as I turn right now walking north on main street.

I have to keep tracking this smell of shit instead ...

it's pretty busy, lots of people out ...

If I don't stay focused i'll get lost

the food smell is strong even blocks away as my stomach grumbles and mouth salivates

The smell of shit is getting stronger and burnt bqq weaker as I lament my direction

I dunno, life is complicated I guess ...

Most people just care that they're right.

No one ever comes up to you looking for the reasons why

they just come looking for what they want to find.

They don't care that we're starving

Everyone's a piece of shit in this town, the only difference is how big they are and how bad they smell.

Even flowers wither and die here,

I know the whole world reeks.

Including me.

Maybe there is one exception ...

I feel a small tingle at my leg, on my wrist, in my ear ...

interrupting my self deprecation ritual

"What's that fuckin ... "

my phone rings

"shit"

Despite all the shortcuts and hotkeys, voice commands, gestures ... sometimes I still fumble, I feel like I should have vested in A.I.

Mostly so they can replace my brain with something functional.

"Hey, how goes it ?" I say higher pitch than I intended ... as usual ...

The other side of the satellites voice comes back a soft half awake yawn

I smile, stupidly as I listen, if I had a tail I'm sure it would be wagging.

"You sound like you need coffee"

a small "mhmm" graces my ear and I let out a playful laugh

"okay, are you hungry too ? If you think you can eat I want to take advantage of it"

After a small pause the voice comes back "I don't want to make decisions today, if you're going to get something, I will too. You should know what I like."

"Okay" I say walking down the sidewalk forgetting where I am

"Give me about 40 minutes and I'll be there."

I hang up the phone with a small smirk and a chuckle,

I close my eyes and breathe heavy

She likes that bakery it's not far, and has "the best" coffee ... i Think to myself smugly, "That will be good"

my stomach grumbles again as I hone the scent of warm butter croissant, coffee, and vanilla

I didn't realize my eyes were closed slightly too long "Shit ... Where am I ?"

At least there is one flower in this city of sewage.

I was hungry, and need to breathe good air anyway.

It didn't matter if the scent went cold, I already had what I needed.

You maybe surprised how much lust and jealousy can get the better of us all.

This was always going to be easy, you could smell it.

That's the thing about hyigene

Less people practice it than you think.

Residual nostril torture is every where.

Take fuckin shower next time, even the wife could smell it.

That's why she came to meet me.

There were always several different reason, usually having to do with whatever insecurity they subconsciously built their fears on, but honestly ?

Well, scum ... That's basically the story, every time. That's why it's easy ... It's always easy and it feeds me.

That's the way the times are. I can't get a regular job, the machines took all those away.

Even the local shops have started to submit to the technology down to the simplest of tasks.

Except this bakery, that's why she liked it, and since she liked it, I liked it.

Things were simple, mostly efficient, except my stomach anyway ...

Vanilla and coffee fragrance fills the air, rich and thick, but lightly favoring the coffee and dark cocao.

Fresh ground coffee can sometimes make me sick to my stomach, it can be very disorienting and strong.

It's easy to find though, people put a lot of stuff in coffee.

It's not always mean to be consumed or found ...

The doors of the bakery open with the ringing of a bell, stainless, classic, loud but simple.

It does it's job "Sit anywhere ya want honey and I'll be with ya in just a sec or browse the bakery bar to your left and make your order at the counter"

It was busy before sun up usually here, people going to work, coming in from one night stands, failed night stands ...

This place always smells of cleaning products behind the food though.

Plus, they don't serve meat ...
So that's a good sign.

As far as bakeries go ...

There is a deli on this corner that uses the bread from here,

We don't go there unless we're feeling brave ...

The only iron I ever smell here is from the occasional cut finger

Well, that and the little bakery girl in the back. I call her Kat, not really sure what her name is though to be honest ...

I just know her long sleeves hide more than tattoos.

Sometime's she pretends not to notice when I come in, she never pays attention to anyone else afterwards.

To be honest I just figured she can smell my scars.

She's just young, hiding, alone. Sometimes she talks to me, not much, and only if I stay to eat and someone has to bring an order to my table or refill a drink.

I assume she's afraid of me, but I'm not here to eat her, she's not my type.

I don't really care for innocent and afraid, I need someone around that knows what they want and can make decisions.

My life requires only one person, I can switch if I want, but there really is only one person for me anyway.

Walking up to the bar the scent of cinnamon is strong and fruits line the underside of the glass barrier like a painting of breakfast immortal.

Something else, something ... new ?

Kat is behind the glass today

"Heya Kat, how goes it this morning ?"

"Good morning sir" she's always looking down ...

"Yeah, I guess so ... Good morning Kat" I said with a smile mostly for her comfort "looks like BUSY DAY!"

"Yes it is sir" she replies shyly

"Hey, what you got that's new today? Did you make it yourself ? "

"Same menu as always sir" she looks up at me finally with a blank stare. "You want the usual ? No mam today ?"

"Smells like ..." I stop, something's ... Foul ...

Kat never smells bad ... Not normal, but not like this ...

"Kat ... Are ... You okay ?" She doesn't smell like herself her eyes are watery

"I'm ... fine ... sir" dainty, pathetic

"Yeah ... So then ... I'll just have ... 4 butter croissants, then one each chilled strawberries and chilled blueberry glaze. A French vanilla iced frappe with caramel and fudge swirls then I'll be out of your hair."

"Yes sir, the usual." Kat is very polite quite often, I haven't been here this week, but something's not right.

I stare at the bar eyes closed ...

The air is thick with sweetness and humidity, one man in the corner behind me has bit into his pastry in an unfortunate way for his knock off polyester suit he's so proud of. Such as the pastry spay it's guts back onto the mans chest and obviously less than kept beard. On right a group of night shifters getting off work, going home alone tired, dreading their terrible marriages. They sat complaining about the ball and chain like typical assholes that married for trophies.

Construction workers, unwashed boots with bits of cement and oil, sweat and deodorant here is where I find small bits of iron, scrapes, cuts on their hands perhaps an independent contractor group.

The cinnamon french toast was popular with them, they drown everything in syrup, as it slides down their forks.
Icing dropping from the foreman's lips to his lap unknowingly, the sweetness now tainted with chemicals and body odor, ruined ...

Relativly fit, from the sweat smells

Nothing unusual

Except the Kat today

She smelled like them ...

My hair stand on end as my stomach, my chest, my throat emit a low growl

I tilt my head and spin slowly on my left foot as I stamp my right agressivly on the floor to stop my slow spin.

I raise my arms,

"And what did you boys have for breakfast this morning ?"

The group pause, and seem to smile in unison, one large mocking adrenaline wiff stabs through the air

One man breaks the grin with a comment "I know what I wanted, but i was told it wasn't on the menu, even though I could see it right in front of me."

I walk towards the group slowly, footsteps purposefully heavy, keeping me from tearing at their throats in front of everyone.