Steven D Kaplan
Bio
28 year old with Aspergers who is studying respiratory therapy when I’m not working or writing in my spare time. Some day I hope to write a full-length novel.
Stories (2)
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Glimmering Green
For the past 3 years, I have worked as an orderly in a particular rest home. I won’t say its name or mine because even though I feel the need to write this down, I also know there are good folks still working there and I don’t want their reputation to be impugned by association with me. Anyways like every job its had its ups and downs, but for the most part, it has been fine and my time here has been no different than what you’d expect it to be like. I make sure the residents take their medicine and eat their food, I try quickly to respond to any emergencies, I clean up after them, and I try to keep the less mentally put together ones from walking around without clothes. Like I said, simple, standard stuff...for the most part.
By Steven D Kaplan4 years ago in Fiction
Pawn Shop
It was 12 o’clock according to the old mechanical clock on the wall, but the old pawnbroker had long since given up on paying the device any mind. With the perpetual gloom that hung around outside the shop, 12 o’clock meant it could be midnight or it could have been midday and he wouldn’t even have known the difference. It had been that way ever since the regime had built that new factory making God knows what a few blocks away, its huge bulk and all the smoke the building pumped out obscuring the light from the artificial sunlamps built in the arcology’s ceiling a kilometer or two above ground level. Bad enough that nobody on this level of the city-sized building he lived in along with most of humanity would ever see the sun as is, but thanks to the factory even the facsimile of light they had previously was now cut off. Honestly, it didn’t really matter whether it was day or night to the old pawnbroker, given his profession and the clientele he typically dealt with he had long ago forsaken the old 9 to 5 hours that most other businesses adopted. It was an easy thing for him to do, his apartment was right above the shop, and he tended not to go out much if at all. A smart attitude to have when you lived in a neighborhood where a walk around the block meant a 50/50 chance of you getting shot and you had enough money to afford to get all your worldly needs delivered by drone. Speaking of which the drone that was supposed to deliver his lunch was running late. He was about to go to his personal console in the back of the shop to see what the status of his order was when he heard the proximity sensor on the front door chime. He looked over towards the sliding door at the building’s front expecting to see one of those little car drones roll in. Instead, a man…or at least someone he thought was a man strolled in. It was hard to tell with all the layers upon layers of torn and filthy clothes they wore all over and the bandana they had over their mouth.
By Steven D Kaplan5 years ago in Fiction
