Comment #8956

Forum: Short stories

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Anhelm 21 Czech Republic MelancholicPhlegmatic INFJ 451 86C
Marriage, part 3 (or "The Wallet")

She was driving her new car. She received it as a present from her husband, to celebrate theirs marriage reparation. It was big and comfortable and she was a good driver. Today, her task was simple. To buy food for next month and some additional stuff.

She arrived to the shopping centre. It was a big building, bringing feeling of real city to Liverpool's suburbs. Although it was half past eight, the parking lot was incredibly full. She found a suitable place for parking her loved car. She left the parking lot, heading to the monstrously looking centre, checking her list again and again. Bread, rolls, cheese, tomatoes, carrots, cereals, screwdriver... Her husband was surely no writer. The list had no form. She despairingly pictured herself browsing through infinite flakes filled with overpriced and useless stuff. Sigh.

She entered. The centre was called "Coolmarket." She immediately comprehended why. It was one big fridge. Although it was middle of July, the centre's staff managed to set the temperature to about fifteen degrees of Celsius. How appreciative! She checked her list again. So, what to start with? She decided to visit the fruit department first. Despite the low temperature, every orange seemed to be overripe. And some of them hosted variable species of mushrooms. Disgusted, she chose some good-looking apples, bananas and one pineapple.

Approaching the DIY department, she spied a beautiful shiny necklace. Unlike other ladies in Liverpool she knew, she wasn't much into fashion. But she adored jewellery. She was able to spend hours just by choosing the right broach to her hated green dress. She decided to return and continued her way. The assistant in DIY was pretty annoying. He wasn't able to tell her, what does slot screw mean, but he was able to speak forever about some bad-smelling glue. Pushing a shopping basket with almost smashed fruit and randomly chosen screwdriver inside, she checked another point of her list. What? Edward wants riffles? Oh, that is "waffles." He could write with a bit mercy for her. While looking for his favourite, a small slim man bumped in her. Her handbag fell on floor and she managed to catch a flake. She was in mood to shout: "Cannot you be a little more careful, you...," but she decided to just accept his apologies and carry on.

At last. Her basket was overloaded and she headed to the cash desk. But then, she remembered the necklace. How much was it? About hundred pounds. She decided to check, how much does she have in cash. But she stunned. Her wallet was away. Half senseless, she literally hung herself over left shoulder of security member, saying some gibberish like: "You must help me, I have been robbed. You are my only hope" Lately, she realised, she could just say: "Somebody stole my wallet." But no matter. They led her to a small room with many screens, asking her to describe the debtor. She didn't know much. Honestly, she didn't know anything. But then, she spied him at one of the screen. "That's him," said, rather yelled, she, pointed a little figure. After moment, the centre's manager was talking to her. She discovered a troublemaking pickpocket. "We must take all the stolen stuff to make an evidence," said a policeman, "but you can give us your address and we will send you your wallet as soon as possible, Mistress Carbleigh."

She parked her car and opened their door planing, how she will announce the new to her husband. "Enough you go." said Edward. "You give yourself a lot of time, Donna" "I thought I said you I am going to the shopping centre." answered pretty angry Donna. How can he be so rude? "I hope you haven't steal anything," continued Edward, making obviously fun of her, "you have forgotten your wallet in the bedroom."