The Embry Parable

The Embry Parable

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Jun 15, 2022
This is a story of a person named Embry. They worked for a company in a big building where they were employee #114. Employee #114's job was simple: he sat at their desk in Room 114 and pushed buttons on a keyboard. Orders came through a monitor on their desk telling them what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order. This is what Employee #114 did every day of every month of every year, and although others may have considered it soul rending. Embry relished every moment that the orders came in, as though they had been made exactly for this job. And Embry was happy. And then one day something very peculiar happened.
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All I wanted to do was get a pair of combat boots. Black ones. I walk into the shoe store then walk to the aisle with combat boots. I've been here so many times to stare at them that I have the aisle memorized. I'm Dylan, Dylan Daniels. My family isn't poor. If you could call it a family. It's Mom and I in a townhouse. It's just my mom is a workaholic and I'm lucky if I see her for a minute. Some eighteen year olds would get high or drunk every night. She's not my mom, she took me in when my parents got in a car accident. She tells me to call her mom. In my case I work at Roquefield Towers as a receptionist from 1:30-5:00. If I ever want to buy anything I have to pay for it. Including food, any food. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks. I walk to the Checkout Line, four people in front of me. I wait. When it's my turn, five men/guys in black clothing and black ski-masks walk in with guns aimed all directions.

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