Short fiction challenge
In my series of short fiction challenges, I post short pieces I wrote for my Masters in Science Fiction and Fantasy at Anglia Ruskin University. We were set a challenge every fortnight, to practise writing in a particular style or genre, and (with permission from my tutor) I’ve decided to share them here.
This week’s challenge was to write two scenes about a supermarket: one using a genre of morality/sentiment (fantasy, horror or romance) and one using a genre of the rational (SF, crime or historical).
Julie pushed the trolley eagerly down the aisles, heading for the bakery. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted towards her; she’d been waiting outside the supermarket doors since before they opened, and was on a mission.
How lucky she’d been to overhear her friend! Laura worked the early morning shift, getting the baked goods ready for opening time, and Julie had caught her talking to a workmate: ‘Of course, the brownies are amazing… We’d never get through the dawn rush without them.’
Julie’s ears pricked up. Was this a staff treat, before the shoppers descended? A slight smile played on Laura’s lips. Yes, she said, if you get there early enough, there might be a few still hanging around.
And so Julie was here, in search of free cake. As she arrived at the bakery counter, her heart leapt: there was a handwritten sign saying ‘Brownies’ next to a plate. Sadly, the plate was empty: just a few crumbs remained. She sighed in frustration. Too late!
A man emerged, his arms loaded with baguettes. ‘Excuse me!’ said Julie, ‘but I don’t suppose there are any brownies left?’
The man’s brow furrowed, then he shrugged. ‘Sure. Try the tinned veg aisle.’
Odd, thought Julie, but headed off, hoping the shelf stackers would be feeling generous. She could almost taste the sweetness on her tongue! Brimming with anticipation, she reached the rows of beans and sweetcorn, and turned the corner.
She stopped in amazement. Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped.
There, in front of her, busily hefting tins, were a dozen or so tiny creatures, with wrinkled faces and pointy ears. Upon seeing her, they squeaked in panic, and scattered.
‘Brownies…’ whispered Julie.
It was when climate change finally took the Amazon river – now the Amazon flood plain – that Jeff Bezos’s great-great-great-great-grandson’s company suffered a parallel downturn. Nile Rodgers, former musical impresario and now cryogenics guru, saw his opportunity with his namesake river and founded NILE: THE GIGASTORE.
Not that Sonya had much time for history. Yes, back in the day Amazon had been regarded as a behemoth, threatening the so-called ‘super’markets – but how primitive everyone had been back then! The idea of different shops for different products? Utterly nonsensical. Amazon had been seen as a trailblazer, yet it had only scratched the surface of its retail potential.
It was its virtual existence that had been its downfall. Nile had brought back physical stores to satisfy everyone’s growing craving for human contact – you now couldn’t walk from London to Leeds without leaving his plexiglass-roofed domain – and he had stocked these square miles with everything money could buy.
It was with his cryogenics business that things really took off. Sonya had realised, in her twenties, that looking after her beloved Chihuahua, Monty, was going to seriously impede her career progress, so she’d taken the opportunity to have him ‘homed’ in NILE’s freezer section. And it was to these aisles that she was now returning, fifteen years later, to reclaim him.
Or maybe not. As with a disreputable pawn shop in the olden days, you could never guarantee that your pet would be there when you returned: someone else might have taken a fancy to them. Sonya was aware of the risks involved in prioritising her career, but was fairly cheerful about the whole thing. After all, hadn’t she herself changed over the years?
Yes, she thought, idly wheeling the trolley along. Maybe she’d try an iguana this time.
© Gwyneth Marshman 2018.