Milk Tanker Desi Girl

“Sure do!” I stated before pointing to my name tag. “Richard the stocker! Come! You're going to learn this system as well.” she said enthusiastically as she grabbed my arm and pulled me in to the cashier station. “We don't usually have stockers anywhere near the registers ever. Don't worry about it Rich, go do your thing.” my manager argued for me. “I don't recall that being company policy Tim! If I'm not mistaken, everyone should be trained on the register. Am I wrong?” she countered. “You're right. It is policy, and he was trained on them, but we have designated cashiers for a reason,” Tim continued to argue. He always had my back. “But you see, these are new systems. He needs to be trained on these at some point. Right?” “Yes, and he will be, but we still have half of the palettes left from yesterdays shipment, and that needs to get done.” “Fair enough! So here's what we'll do. I'll go over how to sign in, as that's how everyone will be starting their shifts, then we'll all take a. I had been unconscious, I didn’t know where I was, I couldn’t move, and I felt panic rising in my body again. Death had come a bit too close, a bit too fast, I hadn’t checked all the boxes on my long list yet. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t go until it was all done, until I was damn well ready. ‘But I’m not done yet…’ I whispered to myself through dry and chapped lips. ‘What’s not done yet?’ a soft voice asked. ‘William…? Life, and all sorts of things related to living…’ I whispered softly in answer. ‘So tell me?’ William said, also in a whisper ‘I can help…’ ‘You’ve got two strong arms… so you can help…’ I whispered back, attempting a small smile. ‘Well, the spirit is willing at least,’ he answered with a soft laugh ‘and, no offense, but I think that mental strength might be what it takes…’ ‘Okay,’ I whispered ‘then first, how long have I been unconscious, what kind of injuries do I have and are they giving me any type of drugs, painkillers or calming medications? Why can’t I move, see or.
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