They come out in droves, groggy from the festivities of yesterday. They make lines like snakes, looping and curling around the beige consumer castles.

Breath fogs glass doors looked through by mouth breathers salivating at the sight of Chinese imports.

Today’s tragic heroes huddled close together for warmth, wondering if their new found friend’s boot will find a place in their back when the gates open and the charge begins.

In motorized chairs they studied their coupons marking off priorities for the hunt. Blankets cover legs too bloated to carry their own weight.

The clock struck and the gate keepers make way for the herd’s stampede. The magic doors slid open, hands push through leading towards today’s best deals; the cheapest and shiniest plastic contrivance.

Any kinship created outside the commercial complex had dissolved. Manners and chivalry were gone before the first Plasma TV was wrestled off the shelf.

“Do unto others” was suspended in favor of “while supplies last”.

I prayed the vibration of the stampede would loosen the mortar and the bricks would shake out of place. I hoped fluorescent lights and security cameras would rain down on the early morning scavengers.

With wide screens in tow the cattle would push and shove for the doors. I could just see aisle 9, a slippery mess of blood and high fructose corn syrup.

A God like voice would crackle through the loud speakers “Attention shoppers, it seems the apocalypse is upon us. Please take any future purchases up to the front register”.