6.11pm
To my pleasure, the nights were getting lighter, and it filled me with euphoria, knowing that Summer was slowly approaching. There were thick clouds of grey, but behind was a sky of turquoise green and peppermint blue. The subtle breeze tickled at my exposed knees as I sat down on the grass. I squinted down at the small seaside town, the sun blanketed the town in a warm orange tinge as it melted away into the horizon.
I walked down the cliff, my stomach growling at me as if it were reminding me to feed it. The smell of deep fat fryers, salt and vinegar filtered through my nose, and I knew fish and chips would satisfy my needs. I walked up to the salmon coloured beach-hut, titled 'Beach-hut Buffet.' the menu was very stereotypical for a seaside town, mainly processed food or something accompanied by chips.I recognised the boy behind the counter, he went to my school and perhaps we'd even shared a subject back along the line. He smiled, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. His outfit matched the colour of the beach-hut. He wore a pink top with braces, and a pink cap with their logo printed on the front.
"chips and mushy peas please," I asked, and he wrote it down on his pad, ripping off the number at the top and placing it in the palm of my hand.
"we'll call you when it's ready.'" he asked, and I smiled back looking at the scrap piece of paper, number eleven. I watched him dunk the chips into the viciously hot oil and putting a polystyrene pot of mushy peas in the microwave. When the microwave sang, he pulled the chips up and poured them into paper, wrapping them up, and getting the mushy peas out of the microwave.
He called out my number and I thanked him, holding the warm paper in my hands. I trudged up the hill, recognising the silhouette of the boy.
"I got us chips," I called out, his head turning in my direction and he smiled.
"were they really for us, or did you get them for yourself?" he asked, laughing. "thank you, though." he beamed. I sat next to him on the cliff, our legs dangling off of the edge.
"they were for me, but it'd be rude for me not to share," I replied.
"you were bought up well then." he complimented.
"I'd like to think so. People with bad manners irritate me, it doesn't hurt to say please and thank you." I sighed.
"I would've thought that would be one of the first things to teach your children, but some people don't understand the importance of it." he spoke, and I agreed immensely with every word he spoke.
"exactly!" I opened the paper filled with chips that had absorbed all the salt and vinegar. I placed them on my lap and put the mushy peas beside them, popping open the lid. "help yourself." I said.
"thank you," he spoke. His fingers opted for the crunchier chips, the ones that had cooked quicker than the others, that had lost the potato in the middle but replaced with oil. Those were the ones I hated. I preferred the soggier ones, the ones that were filled with the creaminess of the potato, the ones that fell apart in between your fingers, they were the best.
"it's easy to eat chips with you because you like the chips that I don't." I laughed, remembering this conversation we already had, placing a chip in my mouth.
"the crunchy ones are the best!" he exclaimed, but I shook my head.
"we'll have to agree to disagree." I laughed.
"can we talk about the colour of the mushy peas though please?" he spoke, stopping himself from dunking a chip into them. They were a highlighter green that had clearly been artificially coloured and not made fresh.
"that looks like something Shrek would produce." we laughed, he pulled a disgusted face and instead shoved the chip into his mouth.
"you've put me off." he laughed, as did I. I took the lid of the mushy peas and placed it on top, we wouldn't be eating those.
"I didn't know that mushy peas were artificially coloured." I laughed.
"they'd be a horrible colour otherwise, more like a less saturated green, and that would put people off more." he spoke, and I nodded.
"do you cook much?" I asked, he lifted his hand up and wobbled it slightly.
"I practise. If I was left alone I'd be able to cook for myself. Do you?" he asked, and I nodded.
"I use to do food hygiene at school and for my exam, I accidentally fed my teacher a raw piece of chicken!" I claimed and began laughing.
"I definitely won't eat anything you cook then!" he teased.
"I actually got a B for food hygiene so my cooking is edible." I laughed.
"Anything's edible, it's just some things can give you food poisoning, like that piece of chicken!" he joked.
"I've learnt from my mistakes, though," I said.
"good." he smiled, "look I better get going, but I can guarantee I'll see you tomorrow, right?" he asked.
"as long as the stars and the moon are still above us, I'll be here." I smiled.
"thank you for the food, I appreciate it." he smiled, walking off, his footsteps crunching on the gravel pathway.
YOU ARE READING
beach//reece bibby
Romance"You're like a daisy; you've been trod on and become so closed up with every gloomy day that passes, you need to focus on the brighter ones so you can bloom," he spoke as he twiddled a daisy between his fingers. "A daisy?" I questioned, my voice hoa...
