Life before her

Everyday there is a new tragedy. I'm too afraid to see the news. I can't tell the difference between channels. A failed college dropout in their 20s. My parents physically together, but emotionally divorced. My father he lives in his movies. It's been days since we last spoke. It started with redbox, then blockbuster, and now he just lives at the movie theater.

She, my mother works to avoid her reality. Outside the suburbs, closer to the skyscrapers, it gets more noisy.

"STOP Quinn from Passing Bill 25"

"What is wrong with Quinn? Don't you think that a man of that age and status would know better?"

"Uh-huh"

I barely respond to a barrel of rhetorical questions from my mother. Business hasn't been doing well since Quinn became president. I turn on the open sign, flick the lights on, and turn on the radio. 

"Get ready for today's hottest hits. It's 96.5 now at 10. Morning to night 24/7."

The music begins to play. It sounds like loud repetitive noise with a monotonous melody. The playlist consists of different songs but cycle the same group of people. Although it feels as if it's one artist from an album.

I sit in a red barstool seat. I see mom open ten new tabs of a variety of online shopping websites. Lately the annoying dj is my only company. 

"Hi, does anyone work here."

Both my mom and I get up. My mom pushes me to the side, and go towards the customer.

"Yes, I can help you. What do you need?"

A woman in her late thirties approaches her. 

"I need a dress for a party."

My mom answers.

"What style and color are you looking for?" Her limited knowledge in English makes her ask questions in a direct way.

The woman pulls out a swatch from her bag. There is a piece of fabric attached to some white cardboard in the shade of sienna. 

"Hi, I don't have any idea what this color is. I am the maid of honor and my friend wants me to find dresses in this color. Can you help me?"

My mom begins to look through different fashion wholesalers. While, I search through the magazines of various companies. I compile a few dress styles that come in copper, sienna, and reddish brown. The customer takes the books away from me in a haphazard manner. Her eyes rolled disinterested. The stack of catalogues topple in front of her. A pile of thin and a few thick books. She chooses to look through the thickest book. The title reads 2025 Spring and has model on the cover. After flipping through the book she dogears a few pages.

"I would like to see this one. Do you have this in-store?"

She leads her to a rack full of dresses in the color sienna.

"Here's my name and phone number. Thank you. I will be in touch." 

And just like that it's 6 p.m.