As You Wish...

It will halt. It needs to end. I kept telling myself that, at least. How did I know it would go on forever? that the anger I felt will always be with me. It's still with me, but unlike the scalding wrath that ate away at my body, it's more of a dull pain.

I’d started the day like I did any other. I blinked and glanced at my phone. I got up and washed my teeth. On my way to work, I stopped at Buckstar's for a nonfat caramel macchiato and a sous vide egg. similar to any other day.

Rain fell, but that was to be expected. I couldn't remember the last day when it didn't rain. Nearly free of drips, I arrived at the office, walked to my cubicle, put in my headset, and got started at 9:01. I bugged moms who stayed home and the elderly. Calling them and asking if they knew of a reliable strategy to get rid of dandelions or if they'd heard of the most recent scientifically validated approach to remove that annoying tummy fat.

I had a terrible job, but I needed the money. Not much else was available for a guy like myself. Forget about my doctorate in aerospace engineering. I thereby earned minimum wage plus a 5% commission by selling shoddy goods to dupes. I almost made it. I occasionally even had money left over to send to my parents.

That day, at 3:30 pm, my boss's assistant requested me to accompany him to see the big cheese. I willingly followed, admiring his broad shoulders and tight ass without realizing what was about to happen.

You're letting me go? Pete, what the fuck?

Amir, see, that's not my call.

"Bullshit, you control the fucking corporation; it's 'not your call'!"

"I manage this workplace, and I follow corporate. They claim that the name they chose from a hat was you. I apologize.

He had looked genuinely sorry, but that didn’t stop me from knocking over his stupid R2D2 pen holder and letting it smash on the floor. I couldn't believe I was being let go. I was aware of their reasoning for picking me, but what could I do? Despite my desire to "fight the guy," I had no evidence that my accent or the fact that my visa was written in an alphabet they couldn't read was to blame.

I collected my things and headed out, punching the button for the main floor hard enough that the woman in the elevator with me got out before the doors could shut. Fine. Fuck you, lady. I’d thought.

Before I realized I'd forgotten my umbrella, I exited the building under the canopies at the entrance with my dejected cardboard box of stuff. I decided against going back for it because of the rain, which was falling as it normally does in Seattle, and I just got wet.

Now that I think about it, I should have returned for the umbrella. Though that would have made sense, I was indignant. Rage was now my go-to emotion. I had no issues residing in Seattle for many years. I was about to become a citizen when everything was suddenly snatched away from me due to the actions of someone who looked like me.

So I decided to toss the umbrella, slipped the photo of my parents and my younger sister Mina into my coat, and I departed.

I boarded the bus with my possessions damaged and my cardboard box wet. except for the image. I threw the box of shit on the floor and sat in the rear of the bus because I didn't want to deal with the gossip about the bearded man with the dark eyes. I had a one-hour bus ride to Shoreline to return.

On the walk back, nobody sat close to me as I observed the buildings get smaller and the specialty shops and coffee shops change into quick-n-loans and pawn businesses. As my neighborhood grew closer, the bus was almost empty when a man entered and took a seat next to me.

What the fuck is this guy doing? Although no one will approach me, this man essentially sits on my lap.

I could tell from the smell of him that the man's round face was pouring, not from the rain. He clung to a briefcase made of leather while mumbling to himself, "No, no. I have to keep you. I cannot allow you to cause harm to others.

Hey buddy, how ya doing? I queried.

“No!” He tightly closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, grunting in agony as his face turned red.

Hey there, bus driver. I believe we should quit. I yelled to those in front. The man's eyes opened, and instead of the six-foot-tall, one-hundred-ninety-pound adult I was, he grabbed me by the neck of my coat and started shaking me.

"We don't require his aid!" He begged while spewing small particles of saliva into my face. His skin was scorching, his eyes were shining like coals, and the heat from his body was wicking away the sweat. You are weak, we need him, he added as his voice dropped an octave.

Before the driver slammed on the brakes and dragged the bus to the side of the road, I managed to mutter, "What the fu-." Then the man took a rather odd action.

He kissed me.

His face was about a thousand degrees, and when he touched my beard, it started to burn and I could smell it.

Given that what he was doing was more akin to aggressive and pointless CPR, Kiss may have gone a little over the top.Also Fire snaked down my neck, searing and torning its way down into my gut as his skin cooled. I wanted to shout and tell everyone that this man shouldn't be blowing fireworms into my mouth, but all I could muster was a gurgling and an attempt to cough the object up.