Glasses 0A

Their faces were dirt-smeared and their clothes ragged with disdain as Axel felt nothing but empathy for the reflections of himself. He glanced at a musty general corner store and decided this is where he would spend the last of his earnings. Citizens with glamorous make-up and dazzling gems plastered on their faces glared at him as he shuffled through their flock. Behind their pestered eyes, a flame of green made its home. Axel kept his mind focused and his mouth shut as he sauntered down the gold-littered street. He entered into “Robinsons” through the automatic doors and hard workers greeted him. Rows upon rows of tall metal shelves lined an off-white back wall. The quiet sound of footsteps shuffling on the tiled floor met his ears. A smile crept across his lips as he scanned the aisles for his prize. He kept moving with his slight limp as he patiently looked over and through everything to find what he wanted. His dark eyes moved with his head as he scanned dingy shelves and plastic food.

Axel shuffled between two ladies in the third row of shelves. The metal ledges shone dull from decades of customers. Hiding on the highest shelf was his prize, ornately packaged in plastic. Axel grabbed the container with a slight lift of his heels. He joined the short line of shabby customers waiting to reach the cashier. To speed the time of slow shuffling feet, he traced over his thoughts from yesterday. His fast-food job didn’t hold up, but it was pointless anyways.

A young girl in front of him giggled as she held her mother’s hand. Mai.

“Daddy please, no!” Her shrill scream split his head in two. “Don’t let them take me!” He fought as hard as he could against them. His knuckles burned red from their impact on the men’s bruised faces who were holding him back. His feet slid across the ground as his torso flailed. Their rough grip tore his shirt.

“Mai!” His vocal chords were shredded. He shoved his arms free from the men, but they caught hold of him before he could stop the dark-suited monsters from throwing his daughter into the bullet-train.

“Sir?” A man’s voice ripped him away from his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he held out his wrist while simultaneously handing the container to the cashier. The cashier grabbed it, and held a scanner over the barcode tattooed on Axel's skin. Bleep. The antique scanner flashed green lasers over his pale flesh. After typing information into his computer, the hustling cashier handed Axel a quaint brown paper bag. It’s contents held Axel’s spirit. Both the worker and consumer exchanged nods of thanks as Axel ambled out the automatic doors. Humid warm air stuck to his skin.

Outside, he waited for the translucent road to glow green as his cracked fingers held tight to the crinkled brown paper. The surrounding metal skyscrapers loomed over him, and the speeding taxi spheres flew before him. The two lanes lit up, and Axel tried to blend into the crowd. They walked with a sense of purpose-- head raised, chest out, and confident strides-- and they dispersed upon reaching the other side. A woman’s shoulder drew close to his, but she jumped back as to make sure he didn’t bump into her. Axel limped towards his friends sitting outside the decaying metro station. They were a couple, a mother and father, in fact. Axel was always inspired by the two as they seemed to add charm to their shared minimal lives. He greeted them with a small smile and a friendly wave as he landed on the tattered blanket next to them.

“Is that foot still bothering you?” Thatcher asked as Axel found concern wipe across his friend’s gray eyes.

“It’s my leg,” Axel remembered his accident. He tried to tear away from the hauntingly vivid memories of his past, but they badgered him with pain. Flashes of dark shadows and gunshots rattled his mind. Never-ending despair dripping from eyes and misery flowing from his feet as he plundered to an alleyway. A security blanket of stars promised his heart something greater. He silently wept as he clutched his leg trying to brave the pain, but he was so young.

“Oh, sorry, I--” Thatcher tried to apologize, but Axel shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he didn’t want his friend to feel guilty for curiosity on his own well-being.

“Axel, not to be nosy, but what do you have in that bag?” Jem, a kind woman and the beloved wife of Thatcher, pointed at the small brown paper bag Axel had brought over. Ruby red nail polish adorned her glossy fingernail. It was the only luxury the pair could afford.

“Oh,” Axel picked out the container from the bag and opened it for the married couple with a weak smile, “I got this for you.”

“Ah, shoot, you didn’t have to get us sandwiches,” Thatcher remarked.

“You take such good care of us, thank you,” Jem smiled as she socked Thatcher in his side with her flailing hand. A meager chuckle escaped Axel’s thin cracked lips.

“You’re very welcome,” he smiled, happy to be of service to someone.

“You’re making such good eurons, do you think you could put a word in for me or Jem?” Thatcher asked as he bit into a sandwich.

“Maybe, but I don’t know if they want any more workers,” Axel lied as he felt a knot in his throat rise, but not a lick of fear or regret showed on his face.

“That’s too bad, but it doesn’t hurt to try, right?” Thatcher asked. Axel furrowed his eyebrows at his friends request, but lifted them so distaste of Thatcher’s imprudence wouldn’t surface.

“Yeah,” Axel answered softly.

A comfortable silence washed over the trio as Thatcher and Jem enjoyed their sandwiches. Axel enjoyed the clean air. His lungs absorbed all that they could before he had to go back down to the Hearth. That dirty place threatened terror upon his nightmares. He remembered a home before his residence in the Hearth, but in the last few years there he couldn’t keep up with the finances. Not with his wife gone...

Out of the blue Jem spoke, “These days are hard Axel. Another day is another day.”

“You’re right,” Axel rested his chin in the palm of his hand. “But I’m getting tired of living this way.”

“How long has it been now?” Thatcher piped in.

“About six years…” Axel replied, “The longest years of my life.”

“Six years and you’re still kicking” Thatcher tried to raise Axel’s hopes. A single piece of trash wandered across the street.

“Yeah…” It was hard for Axel to believe, “How long has Joe--”

“Oh, a hefty five years now, but we’re hoping for the best for him,” Thatcher shot words out of his mouth as if they carried memories too great to bare.

“Wouldn’t it be great if our leader cared,” spiteful words left Axel’s tongue. The mere topic made his head whirl.

“Just wait a few more years, he’ll retire eventually,” Jem chimed.

“You said that ten years ago. I don’t know how much more of Leverick I can take,” Axel’s heart burned with anger as his lips pressed together.

“Axel, calm down,” Thatcher’s words were gentle.

Axel shook his head and sighed. He grew tired of an outlandish ruler that ordered the people around, exploiting their conscious. He closed his eyes and saw his daughter's bright blue eyes twinkling under the stars. The comparison to her mother was striking. He held her when she was a tiny baby, and she was so small. Pride and hope fluttered through his heart as he gingerly wiped his thumb across his baby girl’s velvety skin. Her laugh… he could never forget the giggly pitches.

“I have to go,” Axel stood up as quick as his bad leg would allow.

“So soon?” Jem asked. Her eyebrows arched up as she was about to take one of the last bites of her sweet sandwich.

“I’m sorry,” Axel turned around.

He hesitated when Thatcher called, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find something,” Axel took one last look at the couple over his shoulder. Before anyone had time to respond, he was on a trek.

He wound through the same streets he had seen everyday; the boring but comfortable colors of black and white soaked into his eyes. He journeyed over and under shiny bridges, passed skyscrapers casting lights onto the tiny oval cars below, and avoided eye contact with rich scholars who referred to themselves as higher beings from outer space. Axel closed in on the train station. His feet landed on each illuminated step leading up to the docking platform. He reached the top and slumped on a hover-bench. No one else was around within eye-distance and Axel stared up at the stars. They held so much weight. It was almost as if they had the ability to rain down on him at any moment, but they didn’t. They stayed in their designated spots until they died in a passionate explosion of vibrant dust. Axel found a strange comfort in this. All those stars were tiny specs, like him. He was a part of something infinite and beautiful.

The bullet train snaked up with a low growl as clanky levers docked it next to the gleaming metal platform. Axel stood and stared at his reflection in the clean windows before the doors slid apart. His dark brown, some say black, eyes stared back into his soul. His black hair, unruly and reaching for the sky, handed him a memory. Mai's hair was dark brown. It was much straighter than Axel’s, and she always won in their silly fashion contests. He smirked as he saw her dancing in victory and sticking her tongue out at him. She was paler in color, like him.

The doors slid apart and stripped the image from his mind. The doors closed behind him, and he took a seat inside the vacant robot. He stared at the space under his worn black boots. The whole city and all the faded tropical trees blended together as the train sped up. Axel’s eyes wrestled for color, something alive, but it was all destroyed to meet the needs of greed and fear. He sat back in his chair and let his mind drift. He played with colors in his mind, experimenting with vibrant blues and yellows, violets and golds. He breathed with satisfaction as the train lolled him to sleep. One day things would be different...