Snippet

She placed the headphones over her ears and pushed the "Play" button of her Ipod.

Her current favourite music flooded into her ears and she let out a sigh of relief. This one single moment, listening to something other than the constant buzz in the restaurant she worked at, was the only one single redeeming moment of her entire day.

Her entire day of suffering through the needless requirement to work in a job she hated, and interact with people who never truly understood her beyond the simple greetings and their orders of oily, unhealthy food that they definitely overpaid for.

She lived in a small town that was so unobtrusive that even if the name was mentioned, few people would had heard of it, much less recognised it. It was so unobtrusive that no one would even thought to try to find it on a map, although it's there. It's definitely there.

She always thought of it as the little unknown town that she grew up in. She was not exactly sure if she was born there, as her memories were a little hazy before the age of five. But she definitely remember eating ice-cream and playing at the now-rusty playground near Bendel's Ice-Cream, which had now turned into some kind of video game arcade, with severely out-of-date games that did not work half the time, which was also an internet cafe running on 56k modems, and also a movie rental.

At least the movies were still pretty much recent. She mused to herself.

Roger, who took over the shop after his father passed away, took pride in the fact that his movies caught up to at the very least last year's box office. Considering, it was a pretty strong effort made.

"Hey Wilma!"

She squeezed her eyes shut in exasperation, hoping that whoever called her would think that she was listening too intently to her headphones, resulting in her not hearing anything, and leave her alone.

She started making a tiny, but no less fervent, prayer that whoever it was would go away.

"Hey Wilma! I am calling ya!"

Wilma pulled the headphones off, a little too violently in her frustration, cutting off her only salvation of the day, and turned around to see Patrick standing behind her in his apron.

She squinted a little, pretending that the sun was in her eyes, but the truth was that everytime she saw Patrick, her supposedly boyfriend, she would squint a little because she had absolutely no idea why they were together.

Patrick was just like the rest of the people in the town. Contented with their monotonous, routine lives, without seemingly the need to search for something more.

She could feel her brain screaming at the prospect of living like that for the rest of her life.

However, all she did was smile a smile that did not quite reach her eyes and held out her hand to Patrick.

Patrick, the cook, with his greasy hands and fried food smell.

Wilma sighed, allowing Patrick to pull her to her feet and kissed her.

Her boyfriend.

The screaming in her brain continued as they walked back into the restaurant together.

PS: I don't usually post the fictional stuffs that I write in my blog because I have a very weird complex about them. But I am really bored right now. It's been a while since I tried to write anything though. It feels nice, even if it's short.

Sometimes growing up, you forget about the things that you had once thought would be the passion shaping your entire life.