Posted Sat Feb 6, 2016 | 216 Words | Tagged story workie

He walked around, lost in the new city, trying to find his way. It was a big city, full of strange things and things you’d never pick up on. One of these was to never walk into the middle of a construction site without knowing what you were doing.

One of the workers was on his break, having a drink like they all do. He saw the lonely guy lost and offered his first can. He refused politely, but that didn’t stop him. Another worker came behind and held his arms while the can was poured into him.

As soon as it was finished, he was released. He wanted to retaliate, but something inside of him stopped him. Something felt at ease in him. Even the marks the guy got on his shirt weren’t too bad were they?

He was led in an almost trance state into to the office where he got out of his shirt and trousers and slid on an oily, raggered tank top and some coveralls. Offered another can on his break, he took it with no resistance.

His hair sorted itself out, his jaw become square and just right. His tats finally started to show through. He was back to work when he was finished, almost as though nothing had changed.