Short starter for @wntrsghost --
He opens the small fridge and sighs at the lone block of cheddar cheese tucked away in the corner.
They're out of food. Again. Bob should really take one of the graveyard shifts for next week, and maybe he'd be able to stock up on sale frozen meats and discarded, 'imperfect' vegetables at the wet markets.
For now, a small grocery run would suffice.
He'd asked James to stay and rest after his long shift yesterday, but the man insists that he come along-- as he always did-- to which Bob can't really say no to.
They make their way to the mart just downstairs of his dingy motel, which usually stocked all the essentials. The clerk, named Dan-- an older man with limited English skills, greets him warmly in Romanian.
"Hey. Just here to get my weeklies," the younger responds in kind. Dan makes small talk, to which Bob responds to-- as politely as he could anyway-- while looking at the rack of freshly delivered eggs.
"Have job here, you should take. If you want. I'll give good salary." The man continues, to which Bob smiles at, grabbing one of the baskets and leading James around the small shop. "Maybe next time." He chuckles, then looks over at James, gesturing towards the snack aisle. "You can get some stuff you like--"
