The fluorescent lights were dim in the grocery store break room as Jonah perused through a collection of meaningless images and videos on his phone. Nothing new so far, just the content to fill time. People with their kids, pets, uninteresting tid bits and opinions. People younger than him with kids. While they had a life, he had a job as a courtesy clerk at a grocery store. Why would people want that much responsibility? Work was enough for him. It was all he had, and all he could handle.

Jonah had already finished his meager meal of a prepackaged lunch for kids and was currently nursing a bottled lemonade. Occasionally, he would glance up at the news playing on the TV attached to the wall. The supposed primetime comedies were broken up by pixelated pictures, caused by an antenna issue the store hadn't fixed in months. He was too lazy and too tired to get up and change the channel. He had been on his feet and running around for the last two hours. Which wasn't much, but he wanted to maximize the time he could sit down, if possible. He was tired. He needed to find a more fulfilling job, a better life maybe.

He considered the time on the top of the phone screen. Might as well go back up there, he thought. His store was sterile white with the lights overhead. The floors were a drab brown concrete with the occasional stain in the finish. The storeroom doors opened up to the meat department which was colder than most of the store. The rotten stench of fish filled the air, the department wasn't meant to close for several more minutes, but was cleaning up anyway.

He tried to smile at as many customers as he could while he walked down the aisle toward the front. They weren't sincere, closer to a nervous twitch than an actual grin.

As he reached the front end, he was greeted by the incessant beeping of the cash registers. At first it bugged him, but slowly it crept into his brain. The silence of them meant no customers and that equaled no work. When you had no work, you could try and take a break and talk to your cashier or another courtesy clerk, but the managers were always lurking trying to make you clean.

Jonah was quite thankful to see his favorite cashier open, so he slotted himself in between the racks. He had been bagging for almost a year now, everything was almost second nature. Colds with cold. Hot with hot. Hard with hard and not too heavy on the cans. You still had to listen to the customer’s comments, no matter how crazy they were, and he had heard quite a few in his time. It mainly came down to who knew better, and Jonah knew how to do his job. No matter how shitty it was.

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He had bagged several orders and was reaching a lull when another courtesy clerk came and tapped him on the shoulder. The small teenager, almost ten years his junior, stuck out a bundle of obligations. “You're on carts,” she said, rattling the black leash and bright orange vest.

Jonah groaned, but she ignored him.

He took the proffered items and headed outside.

The vest always made you look stupid, but it was better than being hit by a car. Not that the idea of a swift vehicle strike hadn't appealed to him before. Carts was a thirty minute test of strength and endurance. The parking lot was all uphill towards the store. During the summer the handles of the carts were unbearably hot. Now that it was winter and almost eight at night there was no heat and people actually cared enough to put the carts back in the holders. It was cloudy overhead, but there was only a slight chance of rain for today. Here in Arizona's low part of the valley it hardly ever rained.

Jonah did as much as he could in the short time allotted for carts. That's all life really amounted to, right? He started to grow depressed as he pushed cart after cart back to the holding area. He was so tired all the time and for what? A small paycheck and an empty house?

Thunder clapped loudly overhead. Jonah checked the time on his phone, time to go in. Inside he checked the schedule and handed the tools off to the next clerk. His favorite cashier was taken for the time being and no other lane was open, but for the rude woman that never remembered the courtesy clerks' names. Without much choice he went to the woman cashier.

In just a short time before Jonah's shift was over. He removed his name tag before walking over to the deli, buying a sandwich and leaving the store. He let out a tired sigh as he crawled into his little town car. From the rear view mirror he caught a glimpse of himself. His light brown skin was pale and his green eyes had a definite ring around them. He ran his nails through his curly mat of hair. Five minutes. Five minutes was all it took him to get home. He could stay awake that much longer before crashing at home.

Thunder erupted through the sky like a razor blade cutting through a piece of paper.

When Jonah awoke his car was upside down in the middle of the street. Fire licked out from under the hood. He raised his arms to try and unbuckle, but he was too groggy. The car creaked loudly before it exploded.

The next sensation he felt was water all around him like an ocean.

“He's alive!” someone shouted.

“Well, fish him out!” another barked.

Jonah felt a rope wrap around his midsection before he was yanked upwards. His arms hurt so much. His legs hurt. Everything hurt him. Why did he hurt so much? He went unconscious before he was able to grasp his situation. Finally the pain ceased as he blacked out.