Wednesday, July 1, 2009

A Man on the Sidewalk

The sandwich-board man stands in front of the store, sweating bullets in his stiff cardboard uniform. It hangs on his neck, dragging his posture down to a lazy height. He holds a tray of tiny square sandwiches, toothpicks sticking out from each one. Samples, I believe, is what they are.

Pedestrians walk by, some ignoring the sulky face of the sandwich-board man, while others run to him grabbing as many samples as they can hold in their eager fingers.

The sandwich-board man stands still, unable to concentrate on anyone, or anything. His mind is out of this world and he speaks in a monotone voice: "Eat me. Eat me."

Little kids giggle as they stuff the sandwich squares into their small mouths.

The sandwich-board man stares into space, his eyes speaking for his wondering thoughts. He fixes his sandwich-board--man, that thing sure looks heavy. He looks at his sandwich-shaped watch wondering when he'll get a break.

A break from this job; a break in life, he wonders.

The sandwich-board man, oh he has dreams alright. Under that heavy sandwich-shaped cardboard, he knows where he should be; where he wants to be.

-Melanie

2 comments:

  1. Hey Melanie, I LUV, LUV this, living through and simultaneously sympathizing with the sandwich man. That part about eat me, eat me; I thought it had a slight perverse humor to it, almost like bart simpson saying eat my shorts. The sandwich shaped watch kinda took me to another place, it was slightly creepy as if he was living in a sandwich shaped world. You could turn this into a short story- possibly in the end with him putting arsenic into the samples one day and then committing suicide during his break- death by BLT.

    O, and I hope its ok to make a suggestion? In the beginning part, after the sweating bullets part, you write "It hangs on his neck.." are you talking still about the sweat? or the cardboard sandwich sign?

    ReplyDelete
  2. hahaha! death by BLT! what a sad way to end his life...

    I was referring to the sign, but now that I reread it, it does seem like I'm talking about the sweat.

    ReplyDelete