The Lost Lighters

 

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Chapter 1

The man woke up feeling a little tap on his shoulder. 6am morning sun blaring into his eyes. Slowly sitting up, feeling the cramped aches that come with sleeping on a park bench. The man gives a slight “Mhm?” and squints at the stranger who had woken him up.

“Hey, Do you have a lighter?”

“A lighter” The faint voice whispered.

Confused and rather uninterested, he handed the tired looking teenager a lighter.

“Keep it,”..

People don't usually approach me, let alone ask for anything. The kid skipped off into the distance. “Guess I'll start my day”. Stretching his arms to the sky with a big sigh ...”Whatever that means”.

The old man started wobbling on slowly, with a heavy lean on a tall cane. I don't usually do much, ever since the accident 10 years ago. Head on collision left me paralyzed. Flying through a car window will do that. Fortunately for me the doctors were able to restore my legs and I could continue as the degenerate god always wanted me to be. I was already homeless at the time so nothing really changed. Who wouldn't want to use a cane?

Waddling just a few feet down the park, another old looking teenager popped up.

“Hey sir. Do you have a lighter?”

Shaking my head “nope” and walking past, I wondered how I was going to smoke today. I need to buy a whole pack of lighters just in case there's an epidemic.There usually is out here on the streets. The young old kid turned quick yelling, “Hey it's important, I'm on a mission”.

The two things smokers never have… lighters and smokes. Go figure. Lucky for me, the only mission for me was to cure my grumbling stomach. Just in time for the opening of the local food bank. If it wasn't for them, I'd be enjoying a fresh pile of garbage just to get by. If you get there before the rest of the drones like me, you'll get some cold french fries and overcooked scrambled eggs. I make sure to grab a park bench rather close to the place. But today was different. There’s already a line up and nobody has opened the doors yet. You could hear the groaning and moaning of hungry homeless from a fair distance away. “I'm so hungry, I've been here all night,”“What's going on?” I asked a familiar face. Nobody knows” the old looking old guy responded. Do you have a lighter? A few people turned and looked at me. Shaking my head, the sense of tension gripped all their faces. I guess i'll take a seat, it's going to be a while. A nicely dressed young person muttered “Where all screwed”

The sound of the door opening broke the silent groaning of the long line of miscreants. With eager anticipation to see what the open door may hold. As a young nice looking lady would poke her head out.

“Sorry, everyone for the inconvenience we are doing everything in our power to get you guys food. We just need one thing…..” She slowly looks around. “Does anybody have a lighter?”

The whole crowd begins to mumble and groan, shaking their heads. The ladies head quickly disappears behind the door and it slams shut.

“I'm out of here” says a few of the people. I guess that means me too. Not much sense sticking in one place, maybe stumble along the road for awhile to see if some strangers have some spare change. Next best breakfast is beer. You know you're living it up when you can crack open a fresh one before lunch.

Welcome to the depanneur. Malt liquor and cheap beer. Canada's cigarette butt ashtray. A perfect place to fulfill filthy desires, like spreading chip crumbs all over your shirt and running around with energy drinks filled with vodka. A circus of a variety of snack seekers. My second favorite place, where theres always another degenerate in the front to share a beer with. Most of the retirement home guys waddle over there with their walkers for a morning Pabst breakfast. But this time as I waddle up to the corner store, there's more than a retirement home’s worth of people crowding the entire street. Most of them with a hopeless look just kicking at the dirt.

Surprisingly, no one was actually in line, pushing through shoulders. I was able to walk right into the store. Only a few people were inside. As I looked around, grabbing a beer and heading over to the counter, the clerk asked “anything else”? No that's it, as I grab my beer and head for the door the clerk looks quickly and says “Hey you wouldn't happen to have lighter would you?”

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Chapter 2

A young woman rubbed her eyes with the innocence of a baby sloth as she pulls the cover off her bed. Sleeping in until five oclock in the evening is only acceptable if you’re working the graveyard shift. Or, you have depression. Or both.

I never wanted to sleep this long, but since getting off work at 8 in the morning, the biggest thing in my life I'm missing is the sun. Along with an actual life. Sleeping just so I can wake up when everyone else is just starting to sleep makes me an oxymoron. Mom says it's better to be more on then off. Which would be funny if she wasn't dying of cancer. Unfortunately, it's killing us both.

When you work a graveyard shift, your whole perception of humanity goes out the window. The only friend I have is this seventy year old looking old guy that I occasionally talk to on my way home at the park. Other than that, it's just trying not to fall asleep while walking.

Before I catch the bus, I'll stop at the depanneur for a good dose of 2 for 1 energy drinks. Today calls for the ones with the vodka in them. Miswell, spike life up a bit.

“Is that everything” the clerk says not even looking up

“nah actually can i get a lighter?”

“no sorry we don't have any”

What's weirder is that I don't smoke. But no matter what, I always get asked for one, at some point. Oh well. Better catch the bus. I usually have a few minutes to spare but not this time. Per usual, there's the familiar faces waiting at the bus stop, no one to talk to. No one to hear. No reason to take off my headphones.

The young woman turns to feel a tap on her shoulder. She slowly takes out her headphones “Yes can I help you?” a young looking old person looks at her “Do you have a lighter?”“uh nope the dep didn't have one either” The stranger sighed and started to run off. She yells “what's going on?” The stranger turns around while still running and yells. “I'm on a mission!”

Nothing but weird things have been happening since my mom got diagnosed with cancer. Like, we’re all in a parallel universe. Bizarro world. First it was the fish crawling on land, and then suddenly birds started dropping from the sky. Next thing you know I'm working a graveyard shift at a dildo factory. Now, what in the world, there's no lighters now? Maybe it's mother nature's way of saying we’re screwed.

The TV in the lunchroom switches on while the young woman sits down to eat her chocolate bar and a bag of chips. “Breaking news. The fish grew wings and started flying and the birds are now swimming. Also live from the UN.”“Alert!. Ban on all plastic. Everything from cups to straws, bags, containers, and even lighters. We don't care if it's plastic beware. We have already started confiscating contaminated products, and will be doing so on the clock 24/7 until ALL plastic is disposed.”

Told you… bizarro world. Everythings backwards. Maybe that's what it needed. To do everything the opposite of what it was. Makes sense, the world has been run by assholes forever. Hopefully green energy and cures for cancer are next.

Miswell get back to dildo production.

If only.. there was a way, I could get out of this….

Lights come blaring on and sirens come over a megaphone. “Stop production! We hereby shut this facility down for the production of prohibited materials, code plastic”

“Hell yes. Miracles do happen.”

They kept us in the lunch room for a few hours before we could go home. Make sure we get our paychecks before we have to find a plastic free job. Thank god because I'll need this one. Hopefully I get out of here in time to catch the sunrise. Icing on the cake.

The tv came flashing on. “Breaking news.” Taking off my headphones to hear what was next. Not even noticing the women beside me crying. “Alert. We have almost come to a conclusion of confiscation. If any one in the area has any last evidence we will be giving large sums of money for key objects. We will be paying top dollar for the following objects: cell phones, food containers, shower curtains, dildos, and lighters.

“Well damn, that explains it.” Good thing I got a closet full of “company merchandise” stashed away. Depends what “large sums” means. Maybe I can pay off those bills.

“You're free to go”

It's all just working out today. The crying lady approaches me as we make our way outside. You wouldn't happen to have a lighter would you? I gave her this look like really? “Of course not.” She goes “well, it was worth a shot.”“People are gonna have to get matches” the lady laughs “Oh honey they got rid of those years ago.”

This could be by far the most beautiful morning walk home. The bus doesn't come this early, so I can really let it soak in. Morning mist has this magic to it. The world is coming alive. Through the park, the light hitting the top of the trees, the park feels like a true home. A fish flies by. As I walk, I think of my mom. Hope trickles in, a refreshing look. A new chance.

Walking further, I see someone on a park bench. Even funnier as I get closer. It's the old old guy. My only friend. I tapped him on the shoulder but he didn't budge. I give him another nudge. He slowly squints open his eyes, and slowly moves. He's too tired to see it's me.

“Mhm?”

“Hey, do you have a lighter?”.

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The End.

Ban Plastic.

Written by Chase Wasilenko

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