Walking through Walmart, I look for a Memento DVD. I don't trust downloading the digital copy illegally anymore. Not after this.

It's just passed 8am and the breakfast menu of McDonald's is stinking up the whole store. I have a dim sense of déjà vu. The products on the shelves are all new but still the same. The people pushing carts are zombies stuck in same routines but different days.

I haven't slept since that last message from Leonard Shelby. There must be clues in that movie. I know I've watched it before, I just can't remember.

The florescent lights above give me a headache. The narrow Walmart aisles remind me of the tight hallways at school, and the people here, scattered about with their crying babies and scooters, they remind me of the kids at school. But not all the kids, just the one's that don't make it. The ones that didn't get scholarships to colleges and universities far away. These are the kids that went to community college and stayed here. Maybe they were too stupid to leave. Maybe they were too lazy. Or maybe they got arrested, and were let out of prison decades later to live with their mothers because they couldn't get a real job. It's "you're" not "your".

One fat guy wobbles down the toilet paper isle with a steel cane in one hand and a Styrofoam cup of KFC gravy in the other hand, drinking it like it's soup. Then fear splashes over me—fear that I'm looking through a portal at my future self. Unable to leave. Stuck here forever.

But fuck that, I can change this. I can Michael J. Fox this shit. All I need to do is find that Memento DVD.

"Hey Brunson," a skinny white kid with a peach fuzz beard corners me by the Tupperware. It's Aiden, or Hayden, and he's mistaken me for Brunson because we're the same height and have the same undercut, mine is just slightly longer.

"What's up?"

"You going to Trang's party?" he's holding a McCafe coffee with no lid. He talks with his hands and I keep staring at the cup, thinking he's going to spill.

"Yea. Sure."

"Alright, cool. It's going to be dope. Rocco's going to be there."

I nod and look away.

"Alright, see you there," Aiden or Hayden extends his open palm at me and I slap it. He clambers off in the direction I was planning to go, so I go the opposite way.

Walking through Kitchen and Bath, everything goes quiet and I feel eyes on me. I shoot glances at the shoppers around me. I expect to catch them staring but they're not.

I wander into Stationary and a balding guy is rummaging through a bargain bin of children's books. He lifts his head up and we have eye contact for a moment before he examines a book in his hand. I hold my eyes on him as I stride past, expecting him to look up at me again, but he doesn't.

Turning a corner I can see Entertainment up ahead. I can even see the DVD bargain bin prominent in the middle of the aisle. The bin is full of DVD cases piled up over the rim and threatening to spill over.

Closer and closer, I try to make out the names on the DVD cases at the top of the pile, looking for titles starting with the letter M.

I reach the bin and begin to dig. I move the top DVD cases around like I'm washing a deck of playing cards. I dig deeper and bring cases from the bottom of the pile to the top, until I start seeing the same DVD's over and over. Memento is not here, and I'm ready to give up when there's a flash. I look up and then another flash, coming from I don't know where.

Icy prickles rise up my back. I look around. I'm alone. I look up at the security camera on the ceiling.

Then I look directly ahead. There's a sign on a pole jutting up from the center of the bin and through the messy pile of DVD cases, staring back at me, eyelevel.

It's a blue sign that reads: 2 FOR 1