August 6th - "Shells"

Lucille was hiding out in the work bathroom when she got the horrible news. She sat on the toilet, not actually needing to go, but going to the bathroom is a free ticket to a fifteen minute break at your convenience. Unfortunately, her leisure time would be interrupted by the headline from across the sea.

“No…no!”

Lucille mumbled and muttered in disbelief as she washed her hands, even washing her face, trying to scrub away some of the shock, but she felt it even in her legs. She left the bathroom in a huff and searched the store for Regina, her current work assignment of stocking shelves be damned.

Her best friend could be found talking to E-Flat in the ice cream section. E-Flat had a broom in her hands; Regina explained which aisles needed to be swept; Lucille stormed over and interrupted, because some things were way more important than work.

“Did you guys hear the news?!” Lucille exclaimed. “I’m in disbelief right now. I…I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

Regina and E-Flat shared a glance with each other.

“What, they announce some new anime or something?” Regina asked. Lights briefly flashed across her eyes. “Nozaki-kun Season 2?”

Lucille opened her mouth and spread her arms, then paused. “...okay, that'd be awesome. But no! It’s crazier than that.”

She placed both her arms on Regina’s shoulders. “They killed him, Regina. They killed Prigozhin.”

The aisle was quiet, just the three women standing there, just the low drone of the row of freezers and fluorescent lights above. Regina closed her eyes and leaned her head back, letting out a long exhale through her nose.

“This guy again? Lucille, you called me at least fifty times during that day in June. I was working a shift, you know. And for half of those calls, it was just you sweating and hyperventilating while yelling the names of Russian cities."

“Hey!” E-Flat cut in, coming to Lucille’s defense. But then she looked up at the woman eight years older than her. “Who’s Prigozhin?”

Regina crossed her arms and answered first. “The Wagner guy. He led that rebellion against Putin in June. And apparently he’s dead now.”

Lucille waved her arms. “Putin killed him! Shot down his plane or put a bomb on it or something like that right then and there and here and now. A real life assassination. It’s like we're living through history."

Upon seeing the sour look on Regina's face, Lucille raised her hands defensively and glanced down at E-Flat.

"Let’s be clear. Your onee-chan in no way condones war crimes.”

E-Flat opened her mouth, but no words came out for a while. “...what?”

Lucille gave her a nice pat on the head and then turned her attention back at Regina. “It’s like…”

It took her a moment to find the right words.  “In no way do I support the stuff in Africa and Ukraine. He's a bad dude through and through. But when Prigozhin crossed back into Russia that day, when he took Rostov-on-Don, and then headed north…there were people on the streets, cheering and filming, he’s in that car, seeing all those people wave him on. He was the biggest story in the world that day. Those few days. He commanded the entirety of the world’s attention. Just a single person. But he had eight billion eyes on him.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “But even beyond that. He commanded the course of human history on that day as well. When he marched north, history existed on a fulcrum, facing a fork in the road. At that moment, he could decide the course of events in Russia’s near future. Not saying he would win. But he could affect the history of an entire country. An entire planet. He’ll be remembered, even if it’s just a footnote one day. Isn't it fascinating?”

Lucille looked down at her shoes. “And isn't it scary? Isn't this whole thing scary? We've been living through history for years for now and it's really getting to me by this point. Fukuyama screwed the pooch on that one. All this global and national stress is just too much. I just wasn’t made for times like these. I feel unfilled, and being unfulfilled is one thing, but being unfulfilled at the end of the world? It's just not fair. Why couldn't I have lived in the 90s? I would've been just as unfulfilled, but at least I could've watched Pulp Fiction, Shawshank, Forrest Gump, and the Lion King in theaters in the same year. I could've been shitposting about how everything's so stressful on Usenet instead of Twitter!"

She let out a big sigh. "If God only has lost dreams and debt and global collapse in store for me, then He should've made me…just a pair of ragged claws, scuttling across the floors of silent seas…”

“But just like last week you felt so proud about how hard you’re working here,” Regina pointed out with a frown.

“I know, I know. I’m complicated.” Lucille wiped her face; she had worked herself up into a clammy sweat. She felt her heart spiraling and her stomach tossing and felt the silent seas washing her away into a sorrowful oblivion.

“I don’t really understand,” E-Flat cut in. She gazed up, her eyes sparkling. “But I know you’ll be okay.”

Lucille looked back down at her, her mouth half-open, absorbing the radiance emanating out of her junior. “...have you ever cosplayed Azu-nyan?”

“...what?”

“Alright, alright,” Regina interrupted. “I know you’re upset, Lucille, so let’s take lunch now and talk about it.” She glanced over at a customer walking into the aisle. “Probably better to talk about this somewhere in private, too.”

==========

“Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough?” Lucille asked, sitting on the loading dock at the back of the grocery store.

Regina paused before she could bite into her turkey club. “...well, that’s one way to start a conversation. Good enough for what?”

Lucille spread her arms. “I don’t know. Anything, I guess. I’m trying to improve myself and all. I have a job, I quit smoking, I feel comfortable talking to my mother, I even apologized to Fran. I’m doing everything to improve, but it feels like something is still missing. I’m building myself up, but what comes next? All this self-improvement, what exactly is it the foundation for?”

A squirrel ran across the power line at the back of the lot before disappearing into the foliage of the adjacent woodland. Regina chewed slowly, thoughtfully.

“The foundation for a good life, right?”

“Then what’s a good life?” Lucille kicked her legs on the edge of the loading dock. “When I die, what exactly am I leaving behind? When life flashes before my eyes, what exactly can I look back upon and be proud of? In the grand tapestry of human history, have I left a mark? Am I even a footnote to a footnote, or am I just getting heaped in the collective mass grave?”

“Well, you left a mark on me, for better or worse,” Regina supposed. “Your mom, your dad, Jackie, E-Flat, Fran, Melissa.”

“But what about when they’re all gone?” Lucille countered. “I impacted a few people, but nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

Regina frowned. “I thought you were done with all this narcissism stuff you were telling me about.”

“It’s different now. Before, I was convinced I was gonna do great things simply because I’m me.” Lucille leaned her head back and gazed at the sky. “But now I’m afraid I won’t do anything, and then I’ll be dead. Full of regrets. Is there anything sadder than an unfulfilled life?”

“You’re twenty-two.”

“Death is everywhere.” Lucille closed her eyes. “Plane crashes, plane bombings, mass shootings, disease. I could be dead tomorrow, dead in the next five minutes. People die everywhere and anywhere. Drive safely, but someone blows a stop sign - dead. Drive safely, but someone drives drunk - dead. My heart could fail or my lungs could pop or my train could crash or I could take a hard fall or my appendix could explode or I could overdose or I could have a heart attack. People die in the thousands and millions, just like that, victims of tsunamis or earthquakes or war. I am very, very fortunate that I’m in a position where death hasn’t found me yet. And sometimes, I feel like I’m just wasting that position.”

Regina looked down at her half-eaten sandwich and decided to let it rest on her lap.

“Aren’t you ever afraid?” Lucille asked. “That you’re just sleepwalking through life, blindfolded, unaware, only waking up at the very end when it’s too late?”

“...not particularly.” Regina shrugged. “I don’t think it’s that deep. I like my friends. I like my car. I like my job. I’ve never really given it a lot of thought, but if I can look back and say ‘yeah, I liked all these things, and that’s pretty cool’, then that’s good enough for me.”

“You like working at a grocery store?”

“Sure. They're gonna promote me to assistant manager soon. It’s kind of like my store, you know? I make sure things get done and the store is successful and all.”

Lucille shook her head. “But it’s not your store. You won’t see any of that success. You’re just working for someone else. It’s your labor, but you don’t own it.”

“Yeah, well, who really does?”

“You’re okay with living like this?”

Regina mulled it over, tapping her chin. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Working hard for someone else, dying after working so hard for someone else?”

“...yeah, I’m content.” Regina shrugged again. “This is my job, Lucille. Of course I’m gonna work hard and take pride in it. I’m not saying I’ll do it forever. But I’m doing it now, so I’m gonna give it my best shot. And maybe all the math and stuff says thinking like that is dumb. But it’s not something I can back up with evidence. It’s just the way I feel in here.” She tapped on her chest. “Like my heart or my soul or, I don’t know, my arteries.”

Lucille tapped her fingers together. “So you feel okay because you have something you can take pride in?” A nod from Regina spurred Lucille’s thinking on. “Maybe that’s it then. I was afraid of dying without making something that would be remembered for centuries, but really, I should be more afraid of dying without making something I can be proud of.”

“I feel like you shouldn’t be afraid in general-”

Lucille jack-knifed to her feet, standing proud at the edge of the loading dock. “Of course! I know exactly what I need to do. Something I can feel proud about - it’s obvious!”

Lucille raised a hand and pointed towards the edge of the lot, beyond the edge of the lot, beyond East Eden, beyond the country and continent and planet and solar system, until she arrived in the land of the fantastic and infinite-

“I’ll write a story!”