The Drugstore

When I was a kid my mother would always take me to a drugstore when she would go. She would rouse me from the sleep she saw me off to every night with words like sunshine and darling. We would drive along the main road and I would tap the window to the rhythm of the blinker when she turned. Testing my eyes, I would stare into the sun to see if I could still see. I never could. We would arrive and the men behind the counter would smile and welcome us. My mother would hold my hand and we’d walk down the aisles searching through her list. I always clenched my teeth and bit my tongue; I hated shopping and I hated the drugstore. I would sit as my mother sifted and laughed through greeting cards she would buy and never get around to sending. I would sit and fake illness as my mother picked up her medicines. Until finally. We would always end up at the hair products aisle last, and how appropriate. I would stand beaming and smiling as I glanced up and down the shelves at the different colors, companies, prices, requirements, instructions, promises. As a child I could never decide what, exactly, my hair was. But when I would see the diagrams and the figures on the back of the bottles, I needed them all. Suddenly my hair was fine, falling out, normal, needing body, frizzy and dry. I would tug on my mom’s skirt until she turned smiling, dimples pressed out of her face. I would pout and plead and point until we left with the bottle I wanted. I wanted to cure all of my hair’s ailments. But it was a slow process, and I would need to attack one disheveled hair at a time. I would use a shampoo for a week before becoming convinced my hair was cured of one problem and moving onto another. As I grew up, and as I continue to, I realize what an intuitive little boy I was, because that’s what my life has become. A rush to fix every problem, every ailment, every f**k up that’s my childhood, my present and my future. Just when these triumphs start to amount to something, holes are dug around me. Instead of finishing one triumph and working slowly on the others, I abandon my accomplishments. I abandon my loved ones. When blood starts to rush to my head I tie my shoes before sitting upright. The days I spent debating shampoo I should have spent preparing for and awaiting these problems. I should have drawn out plans and wrote down maps so everything I do wouldn’t be so backwards. I watch the years flash before me in the form of pictures and shampoos and I think God help me.

Reviews

[Raven Held]

Another fine piece. I'm not sure if it's your plan, but I feel you should have tried paragraphing. Especially when there was a shift in the story, where you describe how your childhood affected your personality now. It would have made it even more powerful. I especially love this part:

'As I grew up, and as I continue to, I realize what an intuitive little boy I was, because that's what my life has become. A rush to fix every problem, every ailment, every f**k up that's my childhood, my present and my future. Just when these triumphs start to amount to something, holes are dug around me. '

That was the shift I was talking about. It sounded innocuous enough at the beginning, and sweetly nostalgic. But the dark turn of events is gripping. I love stories that explore how a person's childhood affect the way they turn out.

Anyway, well done. I really love this one. Man, I'm like addicted to your writing now!

Raven

[Moki]

As I grew up, and as I continue to, I realize what an intuitive little boy I was, because that's what my life has become. A rush to fix every problem, every ailment, every f**k up that's my childhood, my present and my future. Just when these triumphs start to amount to something, holes are dug around me. Instead of finishing one triumph and working slowly on the others, I abandon my accomplishments. I abandon my loved ones. When blood starts to rush to my head I tie my shoes before sitting upright. The days I spent debating shampoo I should have spent preparing for and awaiting these problems. I should have drawn out plans and wrote down maps so everything I do wouldn't be so backwards. I watch the years flash before me in the form of pictures and shampoos and I think God help me.




I love how I read this out loudto the girl sitting next to me. "D

[Tony]

This was a fun read. I never knew my hair was so important! Now I don't have any.
I like the conversational tone of your writing here, and found it engaging.
Nice work.

[Kayleigh]

Wonderful! :)
I absolutely love it! =]
The title drawed me in and I'm glad it did, because I enjoyed reading this! =)

-Kayleigh

[Gabrielle]

i DO love it.

its really fantastic, benjamin.