[Drabble One: December 31st, 2021]
Groceries
The refrigerator aisle buzzed a static just a frequency lower than the elevator music over the sound system. Yellowed floor tiles, a stark constrast from the bright and bold packaging of ice cream flavors clacked beneath her flip-flops, and she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand before the sealant of the freezer door peeled open. On instinct, she leaned the upper half of her body into the frigid container, and she tried to prolong the reprieve by pretending to be indecisive about her ice cream choice. She’d come in on a mission for Rocky Road, but no one else in the store needed to know that.
Unfortunately, the heat and humidity sunk in too quickly, frost turning to condensation on the glass, and she grabbed a pint and tossed it into her basket. It weighed at the crook of her elbow, beside the potato chips and the bag of wine, and she two-handed it, shuffling toward the check out in a desperate act to get back to the air conditioning of her vehicle.
The full row of registers were closed, down to the very end, where a woman waved her down with a toothless smile and the twitch of someone satisfied by their recent smoke break. The woman wiped a sheen from her brow with the back of her arm and chuckled at the ice cream container under her palm. “Ooh, this feels nice!” She commented with a giggle, transporting it into a plastic bag.
The customer just chuckled a response and shoved her card into the reader.
“It’s a scorcher today, isn’t it?” The cashier wheezed, scanning the chips and pressing a handful of buttons.
“Sure is,” the shopper avoided eye contact, pressed the accept button, waiting for the screaming alert for her to remove her card, pocketed it.
“You stay cool, sweetie!”
She grabbed the bag’s handles and rushed for the automatic door, skidding to a halt before the sensor picked her up. She needed to brace herself. She needed to time it just right, wait for any cars to drive by that were going to. She had to sprint to her car and turn on the ignition. She could feel the melting of the ice cream against her leg.
With a deep breath, she darted toward the door, and they creaked open at her presence, letting in a suffocating gust of heat. She shielded her face, her lungs burned, and she ran for it. The keys jingled at her side, and she pressed the button for entry, heard the click of unlocked doors before she saw it, and she threw herself inside. At least she’d found a tree to park under, dead, void of leaves, burned to a shell of its former self. But in this year, with the sun’s heat as close as it was, any shade was better than none.
[[Author's Note: I wrote this in August, when it was probably a billion degrees outside and inside my west facing apartment. Now, at the end of December, the end of the year, I'm laying under a stack of blankets with Cozy cuddled up beside me attempting to keep me warm. Funny how we dream in opposites.
Thanks, as always, for reading xo]]
