Our Candy Shop
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"Five bags of sour path kids, please." I told Mindy, the cashier. She grinned at me. "No problemo."
She pulled out three bags. "Oh, sorry Dylan." She made a face.
"I forgot. I got the five bags ready for you, because I know you always come on Fridays. But this young man came by last Friday when you told me you couldn't come because of your doctor appointment, and he bought two bags."
I gave her a smile. "It's fine. I'll take three." I gave her my money and left.
-
The next Friday, there was a boy about 18, my age, purchasing MY sour patch kids. Oh no he didn't! I nearly flew over there and stepped in front of him. "Hi Mindy."
She gave me a warm smile. "Hey Dylan. Coming back for your sour patch kids? This time I have five ready for you." I took them. The boy furrowed his brow. "Uh, do you only have five?" Mindy nodded.
You see, we live somewhere where liking sour candies was pretty much a crime. I can't believe it, but if you were caught with more than seven packs of sour candies in your store, you could get shut down and put in jail or executed.
I know. extreme craziness, right? yep.
The boy's face fell. "Oh. She can have them then." I shot him a hopefully dazzling smile. "Thanks." I paid and opened a bag. "You want one?" I asked him. He shrugged. "It's okay." he said staring longingly at my candy. I dumped a hand full in his hands and left the store.
cover made by the amazing visage_
Seluruh Hak Cipta Dilindungi Undang-Undang
#490
cliche
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