{"id":2764,"date":"2025-03-22T16:12:57","date_gmt":"2025-03-22T23:12:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2764"},"modified":"2025-03-22T16:12:57","modified_gmt":"2025-03-22T23:12:57","slug":"day-labor","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2025\/03\/22\/day-labor\/","title":{"rendered":"Day Labor"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write a story in which the first and last sentence are the same.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adrian poured the clear liquid over the ice in the shallow glass, watching it turn white in swirls and eddies. He turned off the lights and carried the glowing glass to the mirror. Rather than the mysterious, cool image he was hoping for, the sickly blue glow left him looking pallid and cadaverous.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With the overhead lights back on and the black light off, the liquid had the appearance of skim milk over ice. Adrian checked his appearance in the mirror. Even dressed as he was in his best, he knew he wouldn\u2019t fit in. The word \u2018poor\u2019 might as well have been tattooed across his forehead in bold letters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The party was less than twenty-four hours away. He wondered if he should skip it. It wasn\u2019t like they\u2019d pick him, anyway. He looked at the refrigerator and the invitation hanging there under a magnet advertisement for the day labor office.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He gulped down his drink without thinking. The ice cubes in the glass brought him back to the moment. He hadn\u2019t even tasted it. Perhaps another? No, that was his one a day he allowed himself. Instead, he took his time sucking on the ice cubes, getting every last bit of flavor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the last of the ice was gone, Adrian undressed, folding his trousers with care and hanging them under the jacket, next to the shirt. Those two hangars, a second-hand pair of sneakers, and his battered work boots defined the contents of his small closet. The dresser beside it contained every other garment he owned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He grabbed the first t-shirt his hand touched and paired it with work jeans chosen with the same lack of care. It was too early to sleep, long past dinner, and he felt he might explode if he tried to sit still. He left the small apartment, checking that the door was locked, or at least as locked as it could be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wandering around the neighborhood was his entertainment on those evenings where he couldn\u2019t sit still enough to read a book. The blue glow of TVs illuminated windows throughout the brownstones. No doubt, they were all watching the latest news about the aliens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019d watched on the TV at the day labor waiting room when they first showed up a month earlier. When they turned out to look like elves from fantasy, speculations ran wild. Without a job for him that day, the news station in the waiting room was as good as it got.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The aliens asked for humans that were willing to return to their planet as ambassadors or something. They even had a website set up to apply. Adrian had used one of the computers at the day labor office to apply. Not that he expected to be chosen, with billionaires, stars, and politicians all saying they\u2019d applied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Last week, he\u2019d gotten an invitation to a party for final selection of those that would be chosen He thought about it as he wandered past the bodega. Would he have to get a passport? Could he even afford one? Maybe the aliens would pay for it. What would customs look like?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A rat startled him, rushing to return to its hiding place under the stairs of a brownstone. It dropped something as it ran by, and he picked it up. It was a ten-dollar bill. A little chewed on one corner, but good enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adrian turned around and walked with purpose to the bodega. He waved at the cashier as he entered and made his way to the back. There, next to the beer cooler stood his target. Nestled between boxes of wine on one side, and bottles of liquor on the other, stood a rotating shelf of used paperbacks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Relying on the cover art to determine the genre, he picked out three by authors he\u2019d never heard of. He avoided the romance novels with bare-chested, long-haired men on the cover, that were churned out by the hundreds each month. He chose a science fiction novel, a mystery, and one that was likely a drama.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had enough for the three books and a day-old, plain bagel. Purchases in hand, he returned to his apartment. Without a key but just a wiggle and twist, his \u201clocked\u201d door opened. The promise of new reading material made sitting still worth it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adrian put a chipped coffee cup with half an inch of water in the toaster over next to the stale bagel and turned it on. He wandered back and forth between the kitchenette and his bed until the bagel was warm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nibbling on the warm, somewhat softened bagel, he sat on the single chair in his apartment and began reading the drama. Somewhere in the middle of chapter four, he fell asleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was still the middle of the night when a rap on the door woke him. He crossed the apartment to the door and peeked through the peephole. It was one of the space elves!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He opened the door, and the five-foot-nothing, grey-skinned, pointy-eared alien asked, \u201cAre you Adrian Keller?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s me,\u201d he answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m Cruit,\u201d the alien said, and hoisted a six-pack of beer. \u201cCan I come in?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure, sure.\u201d Adrian motioned the alien in and gestured to the chair. \u201cHave a seat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere will you\u2014?\u201d Cruit trailed off as Adrian sat cross-legged on the floor. \u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 Adrian accepted a beer from the visitor. \u201cSorry about the apartment. It\u2019s not much, but it\u2019s home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA place to sleep is a place to sleep.\u201d The alien took a deep drink of the beer. \u201cGuys like us \u2014 except I\u2019m a female, is that still a guy? What was I saying? Yeah, workers like us have to be happy with what we can get.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a laborer?\u201d Adrian asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMuch like yourself,\u201d she answered. \u201cI\u2019m a manager now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adrian raised his beer. \u201cCongratulations. Better paycheck?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBetter accommodations.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cruit leaned forward. \u201cWhy did you apply for a position with us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adrian chuckled. \u201cHard to find work. A steady job would be nice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI talked to the people at Reddy Labor. They say you\u2019re not afraid of hard work, and you pick up power tools and equipment operation quickly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrue enough, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWould you be opposed to working on the ship?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDoing labor?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf it\u2019s a steady position, I\u2019m in.\u201d Adrian carried the empties to the kitchenette, put ice in two glasses, and grabbed the bottle of Ouzo. \u201cWhat about the party tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s for the fancy people,\u201d Cruit said. \u201cI\u2019m guessing that\u2019s as much not you as it\u2019s not me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrue enough.\u201d Adrian returned with the glasses and bottle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you want it, I\u2019ve got a position for you. It\u2019s permanent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure. When do I start?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI could use your help getting the ship ready tomorrow afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m there.\u201d He held up the bottle. \u201cCare for something a little stronger?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t mind if I do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adrian poured the clear liquid over the ice in the shallow glass, watching it turn white in swirls and eddies.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write a story in which the first and last sentence are the same. available at Reedsy Adrian poured the clear liquid over the ice in the shallow glass, watching it turn white in swirls …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2764","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-IA","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2764","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2764"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2764\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2765,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2764\/revisions\/2765"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2764"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2764"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2764"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}