8WorkSitting wide eyed as I look from my perch,A wave of people before me, waiting to lurch.I raise my hand, signaling one to come,A man walked forward, with the disposition of a bum.“Hello Sir, how can I help you today?”“Got any discounts? This place is expensive, they say.”I list them all out, and he shakes his head,Yet the determination in his eyes filled me with dread.“I got four adults, three kids, and one under two,There must be something that you can do?”“I’m afraid not, Sir, I’ve done all that I could.”I prayed for this to blow over, and knocked on wood.His face got red, and his eyes narrowed to a slit.I knew at once he’d soon start a fit.“Are you serious? It’s your job to help!”His sudden fury almost made me yelp,“I can’t give you a sale, it’s part of the rules,”Yet my comment did nothing but give him more fuel.He looked at my eyes, his face starting to smirk,“Can I speak to a manager?” Ugh, why’d I come to work?I took a deep breath and straightened my back,“Yes, of course.” I said, his dumb face I wanted to smack.I walked across the room, all eyes were on me.I hate this job, I wanna be free . . .I walked to the office and told my tale,Then I walked back, my manager hot on my trail.We reached the register, and she took a seat,then the man began to talk, not missing a beat.“I want a discount, these prices are absurd!”He continued to whine, and his words became slurred.My manager repeated the words I once said,Then the man standing before her tilted his head.I watched them both carefully, and to my surprise,The man started to nod and soften his eyes.“Oh, okay, I understand, I’ll pay right away.”I stood there in shock. What a waste of my day!My manager glared at me, and I soon felt ashamed,I had no idea how this man was suddenly tamed.After he left, I slumped back down,I really felt and looked like a clown.I closed my eyes; I wanted to leaveBecause at home in my room is where I will grieve.By Haley Puntillo
A light blown out,The ideas out of mind;A face left with a pout,And a smile unkind.The memories that flowed through,Became curled up and twisted.Fantastical thoughts that once flew,Now blocked by problems unlisted.Photograph by Sophia HanBut out of the darkness flies a face,Somebody to help, and to set the pace.Then suddenly, the ideas once again start to flow,They start out small, and from there they grow.One by one, the lights turn back on.What once was a block is now magically gone.By Alex Tumilowicz9
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