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Cast amongst the bluish pink sky, the stars were slowly becoming more brilliant as day moved into night. Underneath, an ugly and unwelcoming landscape stretched on for eternity. Miles upon miles of sand, dotted intermittently with craggy rocks and sickly looking, lanky saguaros. Despite the picturesque sky, the lands surrounding the lonely highway that Rory was traveling on were completely inhospitable, almost alien in the level of hostility they resonated. Even inside the Gas-Way work bus, the biting cold and bitter hatred that constantly blanketed his new job site was tangible.

Just as readily apparent was the trepidation worming its way through Rory’s body, as he fidgeted in his seat, mindlessly fiddling with his necklace. Normally someone ready to take a foolhardy, headfirst rush into any new challenge, his nerves were unexpectedly getting to him. Much of his anxiety was seeping in through his skin, as it permeated the empty bus from the air outside. The rest of it was mostly first day jitters, something any new hire would understand.

Out of the ever darkening horizon, the station was finally in view. Rory perked up, stretching his arms out, getting one last yawn out before the bus came to a hissing stop. He stood, straightening out any wrinkles the bus trip had set into his shirt. He further stuffed the loose fabric into his waistband, and put his jacket back on, zipping it about half-way up his body, straightening up his collar as he walked towards the front of the bus. His legs carried a strange sensation, the usual weakness that one felt after a long car ride, but something else slithered under that. A strange heaviness, as if his feet would sink with every step, afraid of what lie ahead.

[color=firebrick]”Thank you!”[/color] Only empty eyes with dark circles surrounding them greeted Rory’s smile right before he stepped off the bus. The driver simply stared at the man, even after he’d started his descent down the stairs and off the bus. Those same soulless eyes returned to the road, and the bus continued down the highway, on his way to drag another unsuspecting soul into this wasteland which would eat it alive.

His first steps onto the pavement surprised him, as they greeted him with a small [i]splash[/i]. Looking down, he lifted a shoe to find himself looking into a black puddle, the only thing letting him know there was water was the reflection of the station’s sign. His gaze turned upwards. Thousands of stars greeted him, with nothing obstructing his views of the cosmos. Where could rain have come from? 

An unreasonably brumal breeze wafted the acrid smell of gasoline over Rory, bringing his focus back to the Gas-Way. Through the glass, he could see a large crowd of clearly upset customers, all taking their turn airing out their grievances as the poor cashier, who’s frantic movements and red face made it clear, even from out in the parking lot, he was overwhelmed. The entire line, from front to back, oozed anger. Rory was surprised a fight hadn’t broken out as much as they seemed to mosh together. One particularly angry customer slammed his money on the counter, yelling at the cashier about how egregious the wait was, and something else about nacho cheese. Whatever the rest of the sentences was, Rory didn’t hear it. He’d fallen into a bit of a trance, daydreaming about the bliss he’d feel were he behind the register. His fantasy was very quickly broken when the cashier made eye contact all the way from inside. It was time for Rory to play manager.

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As the young cashier fled into the darkness, every set of eyes followed him out. Darkness enveloped the man completely, and then every set of eyes in the store turned to Rory, who replied in kind with his own bewildered stare. Snapping glances to his left and right confirmed what he feared, that he was the first one in the store. Or, last one, depending on how you looked at it. Without speaking, he quickly ran into the breakroom to pin the grease stained notice to a crowded, dusty corkboard, and tossed his jacket on the rack on his way out.

[color=firebrick]”Alright, let’s get this line moving again! Sorry about the wait guys!”[/color] The same crowd that had nearly torn the building down mere minutes ago seemed to be completely pacified. A scattered group returned to a neat, single file line, and the customer that was next in line greeted Rory with a smile, as opposed to the beet-red face washed in rage that he’d given to the previous man in his place. Inside the station, separated from the rest of Nowhere with just 4 thin walls and a few windows, the atmosphere had completely warmed up. A stark contrast from the pure nihilistic loathing the hopeless desert held for anyone that walked out the set of dirty glass doors.

Rory did his best not let the overwhelming warmth from the crowd sour his mood. After the years he’d worked at his previous store, he was used to vitriolic crowds very suddenly simmering down in his presence, a strange talent that had ruined a few good days in the past. Rory was almost a cult celebrity amongst cashiers and baggers around his town, known for his talent in quelling even small scale mutinies with a single smile. More a curse than a talent, Roroy thought.

 Alongside his creeping desire to be abused, there was something fun about the absolute entropy that could be a crowded grocery store on a Monday evening. After church crowds on Sundays, the massive rush before federal holidays, the moments before calamatic weather. Grocery stores had the unique talent of being small, insulated capsules of pure rage, of animalistic fury, surrounded by eggplants and half off lawn furniture. Being able to have fun in the pan means being able to thrive when thrown into the flames.

Except Rory was fucket of bucking water.

The line quickly disappeared, and Rory left from behind the counter. He checked the Alamos Rancheros display to be sure that it still had enough product left on it, and then walked up to the window. He watched the last set of tail lights leave, sitting and people watching those few left pumping gas for a moment. His gaze shifted towards the road, as he waited eagerly for the Gas-Way work bus to show its face amongst the pitch black horizon once again.