His moves were wild. To his credit he did literally the best anyone could do at this here job. He wore a red morph suit with the top cut out so his locks could go wild with the rest of him. He caught attention like a magnet. It was a Tuesday evening, a day like any other, when John happened to fall victim to this wild man’s pull. He watched the man work, arms flailing, spine twisting, hands waving, shoulders shaking, head bobbing. His bending was at the waist. John felt the urge to talk to this man.
The way the wild man moved made it obvious that his body would require ever so many breaks here and there throughout the shift, however many depending on how long the shift. John knew this and decided to stay until such a break. He waited longer than expected. Finally the wild man stopped, face dripping, chest heaving. John walked closer.
“Is this your job?”
“Yes. I’ve just been promoted.”
The wild man was proud of his promotion. He didn’t know his boss couldn’t afford to repair the skydancer they’ve been using, that this “promotion” was his way of pinching pennies. But that didn’t matter. The wild man loves his job.
“I didn’t know someone could actually do this as a job.”
“Me neither.”
“How do you do it?”
The wild man looked at John who saw no eyes.
“The suit hides the needle marks.”
