Desperate For Attention

“I refuse to be ignored!” shouted the man with the long, drawn-out face. His greasy, clogged-up hair cascaded down his face with all the charm and elegance of an unkempt animal. His disheveled appearance served only to reinforce the threatening tone of his interjection.

“You told me someone would be with me in five minutes! You promised me!”

“Sir, we are very busy today and I’m afraid you will have to wait your turn like everybody else.”

The till attendant was starting to become rather irked by the impatience of certain customers.

“I’m not like everybody else! I demand to be seen to! I refuse to be ignored!”

He reached for his inside jacket pocket as he maintained his deathly grip of eye contact with the attendant. She sensed a burning passion; a desperation in his eyes. For a moment, perhaps, she sensed power and satisfaction.

The shot rang out and the attendant slumped to the floor. A pool of blood formed around her, seeping from her head; symbolic of her short, unfulfilled life ebbing away.

View this story's 14 comments.