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Prose
The tall red head was exceedingly bored waiting in line for almost twenty minutes. Her grayish blue eyes from time to time glance down at her average sized wrist at a Bugs Bunny watch, which almost every time she looked at, was only a minute ahead than the last. Her skin was white, vampire white, covered in tiny dots she had learned to call freckles, up to her shoulders, and around her cheeks. She wore a black tank, whose collar went to touch her jaw line with a red spiral design in random areas. Along with that white shorts that went to her knees. Her hair landed delicately at her shoulders, partially covered by the tank, and partially revealed; a long scar, cut off the slightest by the cloth. She looked up ahead to the line, about three people to the under aged clerk who slowly scanned the food items across the scanner. He was a very young male, maybe sixteen, with blondish brown hair that was spiked up. His face was covered in zits, and like her, freckles. He wore a red vest over his white Hanes t-shirt with the slogan of the Supermarket. He was taking care of an old woman at the time, who insisted on every five seconds chirping with “ Back in my day, peas cost me a dime!” when the price of the item, in her terms, was far over priced by a whole dollar. Once in a while she’d gasp at the price of her prunes, to demand he take it off immediately. “ It’s a scandal! Trying to thieve an old woman such as myself!” The red head would simply let out a strong annoyed sigh. You’d think she could afford it. She thought as finally the old woman, who still complaining wrote the check, gathered her things and left. Then the boy moved on to the next costumer, who thankfully, only had three items. This was a tale young man this time, with brown hair, fashionably messy, who only had dog food, milk, and a box of Lucky Charms. The red head found this slightly amusing. The typical male. She smiled as the clerk scanned the dog food first. Then the cereal, and the milk. And the milk. And the milk. She blinked, as the clerk scanned the milk three times. The third time reaching to the mic:
“ Price Check on item Moo’s Milk. Price check for Moo’s Milk!” The red head let out a frustrated moan as she held her baby diapers and baby formula. She glanced around to any open clerks, but found every line almost twice the wait as hers. After about five more minutes of waiting a tall blonde came up to the clerk to say the price was two fifty. The clerk scanned it in, the man paid, and left. Next was a large woman who, at her weight, insisted on wearing a halter top and mini skirt. She was checking out a pound or so of candy bars, and possibly two pounds of diet bars. When the clerk scanned the candy bars the woman eyed him, “ those are fo’ my girls,” she put down her other two pounds of diet bars to finish “ these are for me. Tryin’ to watch ma’ figur’.” She laughed slightly. The red head was astounded to see the clerk pick up his pace to scan the bars, take the money, give the receipt, faster than she’d seen him the entire time. She didn’t think it was because of the woman’s looks, but more for her cooing way of speaking to him. Finally it reached her. The red head sent down her baby formula, then her diapers with a relieved sigh. She took out her checkbook from her purse and approached the clerk. The clerk looked up to give her a funny look.
“ Just the diapers and formula, please.” She said beginning to write the check. The clerk chuckled a bit embarrassed.
“ Sorry ma’am… I’m closed.”
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Memories are fickle things. With them you feel as if you could die, and without them you are dead.
You remind me of pizza: You're hot, cheesy, and I love you
I'm sorry if I've upset you; I'm Christian, it was bound to happen.
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