Story still untitled

I wrote this for a creative writing club, don't know what to call it yet.

Saul woke up in morning, taking his shower, brushing his teeth. Then he walked to his dresser, put on his clothes. The way he started everyday, but today was different. Everything was different. Yesterday his world ended.
I am gonna get through this. He thought. If I can’t, who can? He laced up his sneakers and then he reached for his wallet. hovering for a moment. The wallet had been a gift, at the time he had loved it. “I will think of you every day until the day the wallet wears out.” He had said when he opened it. Today he does not want to remember. Saul’s whole world crashed in that one moment, now he could not have hope. How could someone hope for something that was over?
Yet Saul still hoped, as much as he tried he could not stop. Hope was driving him to something, but he had no clue where. Saul finally broke out of his trance and picked the wallet up, dropping it into his pocket. The familiar weight did just irritated the skin under the pocket today. Saul felt as if he was catching the flu, every fiber of clothing rubbed him the wrong way. All Saul wanted to do was break down, curl up and cry. I have shed enough tears over this. No more, not today, not ever. It is finished for me.
Not the first time Saul had thought that, Saul often faked strength when he was weak to get through the day, to not let anyone know that inside of his head resembled a fairgrounds the day after it ended. Desolate, trash blowing all over the spot where just the night before kids had played on the Tilt-a-Whirl. The fun times Saul had then meant nothing today, today everything was a scar. He walked past the living room and tried not to look inside, tried not to bring back the memories he just did not want anymore. When he finally reached the car door he was ten minutes late, even worse was that he could not escape his head in the car. Even in this old, beat up truck he had memories. Of trips out of town, of having to call for help when it died on the side of the road. “Am I not safe anywhere?” A shout erupts. Saul did not even feel it coming, the explosion had just been building. He started the car and turned the music up very high, mostly to cover up his own sobs as he drove to work.
Saul still arrived fifteen minutes early, a combination of his devotion to work and his rage induced speeding through the streets. He took a swig of his water and moved the rearview to show his face. He saw the marks where the tears had ran and poured some water onto a stray shirt he had laying inside, for once he was happy to be a slob. He scrubbed his face clean and closed his eyes. Whispering a prayer for strength as he got out of his truck. He forced a smile onto his face, making himself appear to be as happy as he always was. Today was going to be one crappy day at the store.
~~~
The clock finally hit four, Saul clocked out and was out the back door without saying goodbye to anyone, he had managed his day, now he would get to go home and spend the night curled up in his bed, not having to fear the moment when he would break down any longer. The drive home happened just the way the drive to work happened, much to fast and with reckless abandon. Saul just did not care that day. His escape at work only lasted as long as he had to think, once he finished the fresh tasks and moved on to the menial, tedious jobs his mind was free to wander. Wandering just made him pick at the scabs in his head, reopening the wounds that he just could not close.
Saul got home, once again having survived careless driving on his part and missing any patrolmen out on the roads. Saul unlocked his door and then collapsed, knowing that no one would see him in this place. His whole body convulsed as he sobbed, looking more like a child in pain then a man. “Why can’t I get better?” He screamed, opening the rawest of human emotions, sounding barbaric in his pain.
Then he looked up. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”