So I've had this idea for a book. My whole point I want to make is that actions have consequences, and sometimes one bad choice can spiral a life out of control. This is the first chapter of my four and a half chapters (I'm stuck in a spot where I need to do some research about drug use). Tell me what you think thus far.
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There is a billboard on the edge of town. It is full of vibrant colors and is in good upkeep, having been put up less than a year ago. It has a sturdy frame with radiant bulbs splashing light onto the advertisement to allow better acknowledgment of what it was advertising. It stands on four thick, steel legs, braced by even more steel beams. It is a prime example of strength and endurance.
Brad sees this billboard as he drives into town for the day. Brad Johnson is in his mid-20's, vibrant and full of life. He has a steady job that pays well, and takes night classes at the local college. He has lived a clean life with no police record, no parking tickets, not even any unpaid bills. He lives life as close to the rules as he can, and on the off-chance he screws up, he tells no one and quickly rights his wrong.
On this day, Brad was coming into town for no particular reason. Brad's only real reason for coming into town was to work. But today was Sunday, and most businesses were closed. He hadn't had a date in a couple of years, and until he found someone he felt a spark with, he had given up on women.
To this day, Brad still isn't exactly sure what drew him into town, but after roaming the streets in his car for a few hours, he started to get hungry. He pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store and parked. He walked to the deli, ordered the meatloaf special, and sat down to eat it. As he ate his meal, he noticed an unattended shopping cart in the middle of an aisle. Brad looked at it, but did nothing about it. He finished his meatloaf, and again looked at the unattended cart. It looked more appealing than the previous time he looked at it. Brad turned to his potatoes and corn. He finished them, ate his ice cream bar, dumped his tray, and glanced at the cart once again. The temptation was too much for him. He walked over to the shelving by the cart and looked at the contents of the cart.
In the cart was an assortment of different candies and cookies, all small enough to be sneaked into a pocket and carried out of the store undetected. The thoughts flew through Brad's mind. He could pocket some candy and quickly escape from the store. They had no known monitoring system, and if he hid it well enough and acted calm, they would be none the wiser.
On the other hand, if anyone saw him, they would reprimand him and cart him off to jail for shoplifting. The fine was one thousand dollars or 30 days in jail. Brad wanted to avoid jail time or having a criminal record.
Brad debated the issue of taking something or not for nearly five minutes. He looked around and saw no one; not a shopper nor an employee were in sight. Brad grabbed a small bag of cookies and stuck it in one of his jacket pockets. He grabbed a handful of gelatin candies and divided it among his jean pockets and the other jacket pocket. He looked himself over, checking for any identifying bulges. Finding none, he made his way out of the store.
He had gotten just outside of the doors when a series of beeps sounded. Brad nervously jerked his head around and saw a forklift backing up. He breathed a deep sigh of relief and continued out. He walked out of the building and heard someone shout, "Brad! Stop!"
He turned and saw the manager, and his best friend, walking toward him. Brad stood frozen in his tracks, a look of sheer terror and guilt plastered to his face. Many thoughts whizzed through his mind: should he stay there or run? Did he see him take the candies? Was he going to yell at him, or call the police, or beat the crap out of Brad himself?
The manager walked up to him and said, "Hey, Brad, I haven't seen you in a while. What brings you here?"
"Oh, you know," said Brad. "I didn't feel like cooking, so I came here to take advantage of the meatloaf."
"I hear you," said the manager. "The meatloaf is pretty good, if I do say so myself. Often times I sneak back into the kitchen and sneak a taste of the meatloaf before they cut it up and serve it."
"So that explains why my meatloaf tasted like shit," said Brad. "Next time, Roger, wash your hands when you're done digging the wedgie out of your ass."
Brad and Roger laughed a hearty laugh. Roger glanced at his watch and said, "Well, I better get back in there. You wouldn't believe how many employees shirk once the manager steps out of the building. Take care, Brad."
"Yeah, you too, Roger," said Brad. Roger walked quickly back to the building, and Brad nearly collapsed from the release of his stiffness. He slowly pulled his hands out of his pockets and looked at his loot: a small package of cookies and some gelatin candies. It was a pretty good collection for it being his first time. Brad was proud of himself. He put his treasure in his pockets, climbed into his car, started it, and drove back home.
Two pigeons flying south as the weather got cooler landed on the billboard for the night. They ruffled their feathers and began grooming themselves. One pigeon softly cooed to the other, and for a few minutes, they cooed a lovely conversation between themselves. One of the pigeons ruffled its feathers again, and defecated on the billboard. The pigeons cooed to each other some more, then settled for sleep and the maroon and gold of the sunset turned to darkness.
