Beside the Dumpster
It felt good. For the first time since she started this stupid job, something felt good. She held onto his upper arms, squeezing them for connection, for balance. She needed balance in her life. Nothing was going right. Well, maybe not nothing. God, he felt good. Why did she have to be so tired?
For a moment their eyes connected. She thought, for a split second, about kissing him. About connecting further. She thought about the taste of grease on her lips. The smell of grease in her hair. Realized what she was wearing. Realized where she was. Next to a dumpster. Which probably smelled better than she did.
What time was it? Was her break over? Would they fire her if she were late? They would if they found her like this. How did she get into this stupid job? How did she get into this stupid life? She thought earth was hell, until she wore the Doublemeat logo. What was going on there, anyway? Something was weird. He was right. The job would suck the life out of her. What choice did she have?
God, she was tired. She didn't want to go back. Just wanted to go home to bed. Or back to his home, his bed. Anywhere but here, beside the dumpster. Or inside the Palace. The only thing good about this night was him, inside.
But her break was over.