Compact

By Abdulmenem Hamdache

Brandon was once an ambitious advertisement designer and soccer champion. He now works in a warehouse as a shipper. This has affected his longtime depression greatly. He feels his life is in a standstill. At thirty five, he doesn't have a social life, lost track of his friends and no goal. His car breaks down. He gets trapped in it. Once locked in, his depression reveals itself in a vicious human form and takes him hostage. Brandon starts the fight of his life.

Product details

ISBN-10 : 108077212X
ISBN-13 : 978-1080772124
Publisher : Independently published (July 15, 2019)
Language: : English

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abdulmenem Hamdache
• Release date: Dec 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005541705

Abdulmenem Hamdache

I am a lecturer at the college level and fiction writer. I live and work in Lebanon.

Book preview

Compact by Abdulmenem Hamdache

Abdulmenem Hamdache, copyrights 2019

Yes, I met her or him. Believe me I’m not bluffing. Yes, it has a weight and size just like everything else. Why should depression be any different? It was at the grocery store, or maybe at the house, or at the traffic light or the bakery. I am not sure. But it happened. This is how.

I was working at a warehouse. The warehouse was always packed with boxes and clothing items crammed in a very compact space. There was barely a place to stand and impossible to move around without stomping on a box or hitting a shelf. Some of the boxes were stacked on high shelves and others ran on a conveyor with a warning light and a loud beep. Throughout of it all, I toiled in these settings where drops of sweat clearly trickled from my forehead and down inside my shirt turning its light blue color into navy blue. I was heavily panting and in a haphazard state of dress: the disheveled hair and circles beneath my eyes suggested I had never had a day of sleep. I grabbed my cellphone and stared at it.

Cool today and tomorrow. Breezy over the weekend, the phone read.

I remember turning around and tossing my cellphone in resentment on a shipping box. I stepped out of the warehouse. I wiped off my sweat with my T-shirt like I always did. I was so tired. I bent over and took a deep breath filling my lungs with fresh air if there was any. I pulled out a Zippo and lit a cigarette, how ironical. I took a long drag then puffed it. I gazed around the industrial hub as I smoked. There were trucks loading and unloading, forklifts hoisting heavy equipments, workers rolling boxes on pallet jacks. In a nutshell, there was nothing to see. Only machines were interacting with humans. I puffed the last drag and went back into the warehouse and to my workstation. There was a small printer which was incessantly printing shipping labels. The label roll stretched over five feet across the floor. I checked the time. It was 2:00 pm. I pulled out a prescription bottle of medication from my pocket and swallowed a pill. I slowly reached for a giant mug on the counter and sipped coffee. I stared at the printer. I petted it like it were a dog, slowly and gently.

You worked hard today. Time for your break, I said.

I switched off the label printer. I slowly removed one label, stuck it on a box, and tape-gunned it. I adroitly threw it on the conveyor but missed. The box fell off.

At that time, James strutted in with earplugs and was popping gum. He stared at me unblinking. I smiled.

Hey James! How are you? I said.

James ignored my welcome and presence. He unwrapped another piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth.

Si wants you in his office, said James.

What for? I said.

James shrugged.

Beats me.

My smile faded away. I threw the tape gun on the counter then shook my head.

Si was sitting in a leather chair checking his computer screen. I shuffled inside his office. Si was about fifty years old. Si was short for Sinan which meant "spearhead’ in Semitic or Greek. He had been the manager forever.

What’s up Si? I said.

He propped himself on his elbows making the leather chair whisper noise as he shifted.

I cut your hours, said Si.

Si looked at me with unflinching eyes pretty intensely, as though daring me to show a sign of youthful, cocksure certitude.

"But