Had to go to the shops after work. No food, no coffee, and the yappy dog next door is gearing up for another all-nighter.
The bus ride was uneventful, apart from a child eating Wotsits directly off the ground. She pressed her lips against the floor like one of those sucker pads that never work.
Should I have tried to find the parents?
Got off a stop before Tesco to get my steps in. When I arrived, the doors slid open like they’d been expecting something better than me.
It was loud inside. And beige. The walls, the lighting, the people. But the basket was blue.
Trudged the aisles aimlessly. Watched the rotisserie chickens spin for longer than I meant to.
Someone’s trolley clipped the back of my ankle. They muttered something. Could’ve been an apology. Could’ve been a curse. I’ll take either.
A man was trying to scan a single mushroom at the checkout. No bag. He was holding it like an offering. We made eye contact. He smiled. I looked away like it hadn’t happened.
Microwaved one of those fancy soups in a cardboard carton for dinner. Was pretty good. But it had basil, so really it was just expensive pasta sauce.
Probably should’ve looked for Wotsit-girl’s parents. Am sure she’s fine.
Found an old episode of Border Force on YouTube. A guy smuggling meth got 5 years in 2016. He’ll be out now. Wonder what he’s up to.
Thought about writing something proper. Something that appeases Grammarly. Articles. Stories. Stuff people might actually read.
Got an idea about toys. Soppy. Nostalgic. Everyone likes toys. Should probably finish that report first.
next: X. My Champion of Carpet Kingdom
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