Some Things Stick With You, Pt. 2

Work was long. Work was always long, and it didn’t help that Richard had woken up Louis in the middle of the night screaming at the top of his lungs. But honestly, he’d probably be nodding off anyway, standing in the stock room, eyelids slowly sliding downwards, chin following suit and coming to rest on his chest, and the whole process ending and starting over again when he startled himself awake.

I should sneak off and take power naps on my lunch break. Einstein would do that. Sit in a chair with a key in his hand and a metal plate underneath. Five minute power nap, and his fingers would unfurl like a blossom and hit the plate and he’d wake up feeling right as rain.

Or Dali would do that. Was it Einstein or Dali?

Hypersomnia’s a sign of depression.

And being sleepy’s a sign of not getting enough fucking sleep.

“Dude what are you doing back here? You like you’re either going to fall over or else scream ‘Eureka’ and run out laughing.”

Louis jumped and snapped to attention. Crystal’s voice rang out behind him, louder than metal striking metal. He turned around, and there she was, staring up at him with her big brown eyes, her long dark hair bleached light and then dyed red at the tips, her signature look of cynical amusement on her face.

“Did I interrupt your nap?”

“I was thinking.”

“We don’t get paid to think, Louie. You know that.”

Louis’s eyes narrowed to slits and he grinned, sharp and mischievous. “I know. I’m stealing the most valuable thing the store’s got. Don’t tell anyone.”

Crystal’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?” she asked, he voice little more than a whisper. “What are you stealing?”

“My time back. I’m stealing my fucking time back.”

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