Davey was puzzled that the bank refused his loan request. He threw rocks at the sidewalk outside Toys “R” Us. He walked his slow, reluctant walk, his beautiful dress shoes scraping against the pavement. The sun mercilessly beat down on Davey’s body, his shriveled, failed body. Davey owned the body of a man who had been rejected from a bank.

The loan man was so angry and fierce. He wore appalling clothes. His dress shoes were disgusting! And his suit was blue and made of a strange leather. Davey couldn’t believe it. His money was refused briskly and emotionlessly. Davey had imagined receiving large dusty bags with dollar signs written on them by hand, a personal, thoughtful gift from the bank. He thought the bank would want to improve a life, and roll him into a ball and coax him with their hands. He knew banks had a reputation of being cold and soulless, but surely they would throw that aside and help Davey buy his mother’s rivershack from the mortgage men so she wouldn’t be a homeless, starving bitch again.

Davey put his head on a mailbox and started moving his head up and down against its sharp plastic curves. This was even more painful than Davey imagined it would be, but it was punishment he deserved. He continued walking and started to cry gobs of silent tears. How would he tell mother the loan was refused?

Davey was good. The world was bad. Davey felt the pounding pulse of the world’s sin vibrating relentlessly inside his feeble mind.

Davey returned to his trailer and immediately urinated. Above the toilet was a picture of Jesus. He looked at it and began screaming at it. What was the bank thinking?

A dinner of Swanson turkey and gravy was served, with Triscuits. Davey ate his meal while stroking his cat Geldamine and watching Wheel of Fortune. His TV was small and black and white and somehow the picture had been inverted, so Mrs. White was white and black in the wrong spots. It had been this way since the late 70s.

Davey’s trailer silently cried out in pain at the news of the day’s bank failure. The wood paneling moaned, and the silver sink sobbed.

4:58 pm  •  7 September 2011  •  16 notes