Facing Forwards ~*~ [Merhare]
@junisohare
It started with a can of green beans.
Attina was doing her weekly shopping, which she did every Thursday, promptly at 1:30 in the afternoon. This was a time that she had evaluated over the years. O’Hare got many of their fresh produce deliveries every day, but Thursday was when they got their fish deliveries from Besydus. And 1:30 seemed to be the perfect time. Most people were at work. The lunch rush (normally consisting mostly of InterPride employees coming down from their tower to grab a fresh salad or sandwich from the deli) was over, or petering off. All the kids were still in schools and the mums and dads wouldn’t be showing up for another hour or so to do the shopping before they picked their kids up from school.
Anyway--
Cans of green beans, first and foremost, are disgusting. Attina was morally against any sort of canned fruit or vegetable. As a mermaid, she liked to think she was predisposed to fresh ingredients--nothing was better than seaweed plucked right from the ocean floor.
Cans of green beans, secondly, did not go in the cereal aisle. She watched in horror from behind a woman as she discarded a can of green beans right there on the shelf. It paralyzed Attina for a few moments as the woman steered her cart off without a care in the world.
Not a big deal, Attina.
Junis would be furious.
Yes, yes, that was what made Attina pick up the can and steer her own cart in the direction of the canned foods aisle, which she normally avoided. She found the canned peas and placed it directly over the price tag, on the middle shelf, label facing out. She took a step back, feeling much better--
Until she saw that the whole shelf was a zigzagged line of cans. Some of them had the labels halfway around, or turned all the way around. There was a can of cream of corn where carrots should be. They weren’t even in alphabetical order!
Attina felt her brain itch, itch, itch. Out of order. Out of order. Out of order. Misplaced. Misplaced. Misplaced. Labelslabelslabels.
She bandoned her cart, purse and all, to sit on her knees in front of the shelf, and began pulling down every, single, can from the shelf, spreading and stacking them up, until they were spread out in a neat circle around her. Then, she realized, the shelf was awfully dusty and dirty. So, she popped up, grabbing the disinfectant wipes she kept in her purse and began scrubbing at the shelf.
“What the fuck?” someone yelped in surprise as they came around the corner. The wheel of their cart almost knocking into the canned pears.
“Hey! Stop!” Attina snapped back, lurching forwards to push the cart away from the cans on the floor.
“What the fuck?” the person repeated, “you don’t even work here! I’m getting a manager.” They wheeled their squeaking cart away.
Attina paid them no mind, she went back to counting the cans--she’d been interrupted. She was on 102, but now, she had to start all over.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine....