I was sent this link and liked the idea, so I wrote my own thousand word vignette. It is pretty amazing, but what else could be expected? Enjoy.
Streamers
“I love streamers.” Chuck exclaimed.
“Get some scissors and cut them off, then you can have them,” Floyd replied.
Chuck nearly ran to Aisle 6 and picked out a pair of Special Edition Alloy Streamer Snippers. Soon he shuffled back to Floyd, holding out the twisted but still intact packaging with his eyes downcast. Floyd scrutinized his brother with a look of mild amusement on his face.
“Get another pair of scissors to remove the packaging, and then you will be able to cut the streamers off,” he suggested.
Chuck beamed and hurried to Aisle 42 for a pair of Deluxe Electric Package Opening Scissors. His frustration grew as this package would not yield either. Reluctant to return to Floyd in despair a second time, he went to Aisle 1 to contemplate his dilemma.
The mother and the boy walked to the bicycle aisle with determination. Other parents and youngsters marched with them as they flowed together through the store, seeking that special item that would ensure a close-knit family and the promise of a fond memory that would be re-told years later at a funeral or hospital bedside.
“I want that one,” the little boy announced.
“You betcha, honey bunny wummy tummy,” the mother said. She buried her face in his belly, blowing and snorting and creating a sound that made the boy howl with glee.
“I want that one,” a child cried, then another, and soon the battle was on.
Chuck was rocking in a yard swing, humming the few words of the Roddy song that he could remember and thinking. Suddenly he had a feeling of dread, as if an intruder had wandered into his mind and was intentionally disrupting his recitations. Something streaked passed the end of the aisle and his heart skipped a beat, then another. He tried to leap to his feet but the rocking motion combined with his heart palpitations caused him to stumble onto the floor with the grace of a three-legged thoroughbred. Gaining his footing, he hurried off in pursuit.
“That will be $52.99 please,” Floyd said, “Will this be on your store charge, major credit card, or, dare I say… cash?”
“Do you take cash?” the mother inquired, raising her eyebrows.
“Of course not!” Floyd replied, and they both laughed as she went through her wallet, trying to determine which card had $53.00 dollars worth of credit remaining. The boy laughed too, although he was confused by their grown-up humor.
Chuck peered around the Home Improvement kiosk, his eyes narrowed in determination. He ran his fingers along the back of a shelf and smeared the black dust carefully under each eye, just like the soldiers on TV. Not sure if he had done it right, he smeared more dust on his face until he certain it was correct. He crept toward the check-out registers, chanting duhn-duhn-duhn-dihn-duhn-duhn-duhn under his breath. Chuck realized that he may look ridiculous sneaking along the floor like a commando, so he adopted an upright casual gait instead. He even examined the sale items displayed at the end of each aisle with interest to improve the illusion of stealth. He was within sight of his prize when he saw a multi-tool with ninety-nine necessary features, including built in scissors! Bingo, he thought, snatching the package from the rack and working to open it. He began humming “B-i-n-g-o” while he worked, ending with a flourish and starting the song again as he concentrated on his task.
Floyd assisted the mother to her car, the boy skipping alongside.
“It should fit in the back if I put the seats down and move the car seat to the front and move the other bags to the floor and call a cab to take the dogs home and…” the mother trailed off as she hurried around the car, lifting, sliding, climbing and oofing open space into existence. Floyd stood by, mentally estimating the number of cars in the parking lot and how many of the red ones were American made. An occasional “plit” caught his attention, and he hid his contempt for the circling gulls behind the mother’s back. The boy was more astute, and decided he would be openly contemptuous. He glared at the few stern-eyed gulls that roamed the landscaped islands, picking at the French fries, diapers, and cigarette butts among the shrubbery. The boy smiled as the gulls squawked and crowded around a grey-back gull that had cautiously pecked at a smoking cigar stump. Suddenly the gulls erupted over the cigar until one claimed victory and flew away with his prize, only to quickly discard it, causing the commotion to begin anew. The boy asserted his dominance and strode into the flock, snatching the cigar and clamping it in his teeth like the sergeant in his favorite comic book.
“Now there’s a sight,” Floyd thought. The mother completed her puzzle and backed herself out of the car. Floyd neatly placed the load in the cleared space, flexing his arms back to life. “Almost like it was meant to be. Well done, mein fraulein.”
The mother adored foreigners and tipped Floyd an extra dollar. “Thank you again for your patience,” she said.
“Thank me once and you won’t have to thank me again,” Floyd winked, “You get General Patten in the car and I will button up back here.”
“Thank you so much, really, thank you,” the mother blushed as she plucked the cigar from the boy’s mouth and swung him into the front seat, snuffling his belly and causing the boy to laugh a cloud of cigar smoke into the air.
Floyd saw Chuck’s sullen face by the register. Chuck held the mangled but unopened multi-tool in his hands, tears streaking clean lines down his cheeks.
“Perhaps you should just carry a knife like me,” Floyd whispered, taking the package from Chuck’s hands and replacing it in its spot on the rack. He tossed the streamers in the trash and greeted the next customer with a smile.
