Unsociable hours

© Nathan J.D.L Rowark

 

Last figure descends the corridor, keys firmly in his grasp;

An ending to their retail day; the beginning of his task;

A desert, turned to night shift few who toil beneath the beast;

Upholding branded principles, by hard work for their feast.

 

Fingers itch, the cold burns, a heated exchange of mirth;

A frigid read handover, for undervalued shadows worth.

The bulbs glowed, artificial as the image shown on floor;

Yet fashion trade in red lit mode, still required of them more.

 

Team leader, was the position he was given, whilst still bright;

But Steven found self slaving, almost each and every night.

They did not have the where with all to handle undertaking;

To make sacrifice for retail war, he held within the making.

 

As hour glass would empty out, the stock would enter vast;

Enough time wasn't possible, could never move too fast;

But someone else was quicker, held a candle to his crown;

Could race the sands of time, and leave them standing with a frown.

 

She'd been around forever; it had taken her that long,

To pick balanced, blackened outfit that enhanced her darker song.

Aware of mystery presence, seeing changing silhouette;

Lone soldier halted mission, to seize this figure of regret.

 

They must have locked her in, a late night shopper, he assumed;

But it was in fact, a devil, by which he may find self consumed.

Fitting rooms were empty, vacant mirrors lined the hall;

Never spoke of dark intruder, or cast their reflection on the wall.

 

Corner turned, he faced the woman, six foot tall, demure,

Complexion of a snowflake, with a wiggle walk couture.

“The span I cross is catwalk long, one inch, a thousand years,

Drop dead, miss undead”, gnashed she, reflecting in his tears.

 

Teeth were bared in earnest, blood lust seeped from blackened lips,

Congealed in thick saliva, rabid dog drool fell to hips.

“You must give me opinion; act as glass that sight rejects,

Then I will leave your mortal stance, for vision eye reflects”.

 

“I hear the words your s s saying, their slowly making sense,

Though I am a little shocked, you want a stylised recompense?”

She smiled a ferocious terror; eyes burned the sinner's way

“Fashion is the new church, isn't that what models say?”

 

He looked at statuesque faces, mannequins with chilled refrain;

Their stare back seemed more menacing, when backed by form, the same.

So Steven turned advisor, with a taste for newer trend;

Helped style victim vampire, with just garments to defend;

 

But when her outfit spoke to him, trending cloth updated,

He realised, he would not complete the jobs his list had stated.

So now the time had come to change, much more than dress and skirt;

By clock, he'd flayed redundant, as with death his words would flirt.

 

“Nights patterns fast departing, just an hour until the sun rides high;

Keep promise on my o-negativity, for it's not my intention to die;

Superiors will see our midnight mess, the backed up delivery;

And if uncomplete by the time they walk by, in probability, will already kill me”.

 

“So I have an idea that could help us both, in ways we wish to be helped;

Use you razor skills of movement, and we'll complete the work now welched.

With animal instincts, killer, you can guard for those souls sneaking in;

And if you find them in building, unwelcome, we'll, I'll let you feast, for their sin”.

 

“The team lounge, you'll find rather spacious, preparation area and sink;

You can eat evening long, keep microwave warm, those that trespass, for you to drink”.

“So would you like the unsocial position, hours that span months ahead?

If so, I'll share news in the morning, and retire from this land of the dead”

  

“We'll buy you a camera for viewing, to catch all the pictures you pose;

And might I even ask one more favour, my ravenous, delicious black rose.

Some of those, day side are lazy, they need to be kicked out the door;

But if I were to put them on a late shift with you, could we dispense with dismissal law?”

 

The queen of sin did agree on my terms, the pile of clothes did decrease;

In the morning I constructed her resume, to avoid all the drama, for peace;

And to this day, I sometimes see her, well, I'll check in on the oddest of hour;

To find dancing in threads, Alyssa, out performing, with those to devour.