by R Thomas Brown

These aisles are too wide. Too much room. I need to get close, but I don’t want to seem out of place. Not yet anyway. What do they need all this space for anyway? Fill it up. Sell more shit. I need to get out of here anyway. Grown man hanging around the women’s clothing. Someone’ll call the cops. 

I don’t want this to be like the mall. That was stupid. What the fuck was I thinking going into the Dress Barn. Slinking around. Staring at asses. Got out just before the gorillas would have taken me out. Couldn’t have that. Might link me to the others. 

Got to be somewhere to stand in this damned store. Girls, juniors, women, boys. Here we are. The border. Neutral territory. Switzerland. Just looking for a shirt for my boy. That’s me. Whatever. 

Flip. Not that one, too short. Flip. Too skinny. Flip. Too old. Flip. Too, no, perfect. That’s her. Taller than me, a little meat on her, not too old but not a kid. Perfect. Now, how do I get over there? Crap, looking at me. 

Just look at the sign. Act like you’re considering the price. What price? Compare. Everyday. Sale. Early Bird Sale. Jesus, what a fucking nightmare to actually shop here. Seriously, how do you even plan a trip here? 

“Excuse me, sir?” 

Shit, did someone spot me? “Yes” Oh, god, it’s her. She even smells right. 

“Did you drop this?” 

“What?” Yeah I dropped it, but this is too soon. Too fucking soon. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.” Thanks for being nice and fucking it all up. No, wait, calm down. She’s too perfect. I’m hard just thinking about it. She’s the one. 

Go on, now. Go back to your shopping. Forget about me. That’s it. Good. Perfect, just stay around here. I’ll still have my chance. 

I wish it wasn’t so hard to get this. It’s all Deb’s fault. That bitch started it. Gave me a razor blade. Told me it was what she wanted. She came with the first little prick of the corner. We did it every day. The sex was epic. 

Then it was slices. Short, but slices. Sex was even better. I knew what to do. I knew what she wanted. Next day, I brought a box cutter. Bitch freaked out. Kicked me out of her dorm room. I called, I texted, I hung around outside. She had those two fucking ‘roid heads tune me up. Bitch. Couldn’t get it up for other bitches anymore. Not without the cutting. They all said no. 

Now, I got no choice. Gotta take what they won’t give. Now it’s her turn. She’s not looking. Fuck, these briefs are tight. Just a little longer. Almost there. Mmm, the blade feels good in my hand. So close. Here. Bump. Cut. 


Gotta get out. 

Before she sees the blood and screams. 

Before anyone sees the wet spot on my pants.


R Thomas Brown spends most of his time avoiding work and playing with his kids. Other than that, he reviews short fiction at his blog and writes stuff like this.
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