Shopping trolley = exact same thing as a shopping cart.
Crowbar = not a small thing about two feet (foots?) long with a hook at the end. I'm talking about a big long metal pole that'd take your toes off if you dropped it on them. Like a fencing crowbar or something. Whatever it might be called, it really hurts if it hits you.
But you're going to have to keep reading to find out what crowbars have to do with anything... *mysterious looks*
This story is thanks to Clare - she's been nagging me to write it since about the beginning of August last year...cough cough. But I've finally got to it! Hope you enjoy.
[small note: the guy in the picture is not Lando. Just making that clear, in case anyone didn't realise.]
I’ve been told I have bad habits.
Sometimes it’s fine, like forgetting to change my socks, or walking into the corner of the door every time I try get into the house.
Other times it ends badly.
Like choosing the worst day to help my mum do the grocery shopping.
In my defence, I never claimed to be able to see the future, so I could hardly help it if I did make mistakes every five minutes or less.
Mum pointed to the shelf. “A packet of rice, please.”
I grabbed it in my arms, dumping it in the shopping trolley. “How much food do we need?”
She gestured again. “Pasta.”
Stepping over, I pulled several packets off the shelves, snagging my favourite jar of pasta sauce as I went.
“And that’s it.” She folded the shopping list and shoved it in her pocket, steering the trolley over to the checkout and paying.
“So mum,” I started. “Are you absolutely certain we needed to buy that much broccoli?”
“Absolutely, and nothing you say will change that.” She looked down at me as I dumped the last bag into the trolley and stood back. “We’re having broccoli soup for dinner.” She poked my arm with her forefinger. “And it’s nothing to pull those faces about.”
“Okay.” I tried to stop grimacing as she pushed the trolley away from the checkout and back toward the escalators.
I followed behind her, tapping my fingers on my leg in a random rhythm. As we passed the bakery, I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, lingering for a moment before hurrying to catch up again.
Mum tossed me the car keys without warning and I only just managed to catch them before they hit me in the face. “I’m going to see if I can find some dishwashing liquid, you take these to the car and wait for me there.”
I grabbed the shopping trolley as she released it and it started veering off course. “Sure thing.”
She nodded. “Be careful please?” Her expression was pained for a moment. “I don’t want to hear anything about a first aid emergency.”
“Mum, we’re in the middle of the shopping center. Nothing’s going to happen.”
Haha. As if that ever worked out in my life.
“Good.” She slapped my shoulder and walked off into the store on the side.
I waited until she was out of sight before starting off again at a brisk pace. The lettuce in the trolley bumped against the side and I stopped, shifting it over a way so it didn’t rattle.
As I paused a man strode past me wearing the bright orange shirt of a shopping trolley collector. Something tingled in the back of my neck as he brushed past, the hairs on my arms prickling.
I shrugged and kept going again, humming a tune I didn’t even recognise under my breath. People moved past in their own worlds, not really noticing anyone else’s existence. I pushed the trolley toward the escalators to get up to the second storey car park.
Looking up as I approached, I spotted a little girl standing at the base of the escalator, looking around as if she were lost. Something moved in the corner of my vision and my gaze flicked up. The same man who’d brushed past me was pushing a stacked line of trollies down the escalator.
All well and good as it should be.
Apart from the fact that the trolley wheels weren’t clicked in and the line of them were gaining speed every moment and bounding down the escalator.
Also that the trolley man didn’t look the least bit worried and he didn’t look much like a human after first glance.
He looked more...fairy.
Now before you roll your eyes, I’ll have you know I’ve had dealings with fairies before, and it’s not the flutter-in-the-garden sort of fairy I’m talking about. More like Imma-whack-you-over-the-head-because-why-not.
Trust me, it’s not fun having one after you.
I could see it play out in my head, that fairy wasn’t going to stop just because a kid got in the way and no one else seemed to be noticing. I let go of the trolley and ran.
The fairy seemed to start pushing faster and I surged into a sprint. Everything was so close, the girl looked up at me running at her and opened her mouth. Before she could scream I slammed into her, knocking her out of the way.
A trolley crashed into my leg and I rolled forward, the rest of the line scraping past and barely missing flattening me into nothing.
I gasped for breath, my eyes going wide as the trollies plowed into the glass window of a shop, the shattering explosion crashing through the everyday bustle of the shopping mall.
The girl’s high-pitched shriek pierced from behind me and I whirled around, almost falling over at the volume of the scream.
“Hey it’s okay!” I reached forward, trying to comfort her but she turned around and started running, wailing as she went.
Well. That went down well.
A footstep came behind me and I turned again, stumbling back a pace as a fist blurred past my face.
The man glared down on me, at least a head and shoulders taller than I was. His eyes glowed like a dragon’s.
Yep. Definitely fairy.
I backed off a step. “Okay but that wasn’t very nice,” I started.
He stepped after me. “How dare you move between fate and my target.”
“First off, if your name is Fate I’m going to laugh.”
His eyes narrowed. “It is.”
To be honest, I didn’t actually feel at all like laughing. “Well...I’m Lando, and you should probably work on managing your anger problems.”
“You do not know what you speak of, ignorant fool,” he snarled.
“Hey! I protest.”
“You have brought doom on yourself, young boy.” The fairy’s eyes flashed, his sharp voice interrupting me. “Everything you set your hand to will fail, and all dreams will crumble to ash before your eyes.”
“Okay man, but seriously. Don’t cremate your chickens before they hatch. Unless you want an omelette, but that’s beside the point,”
Cremating chickens? What was I saying?
I shrugged him off, hoping I looked more careless than I felt. “You sound like a lot of fancy poetry and everything, but that doesn’t make a lot of difference.”
That was just before the crowbar hit me in the ribs.
Sooo how do you think this one will end?? (This is a legit question because I actually have no idea as I haven't written it yet)