Brokaw's Grocery Emporium

Last week for Wordsday Thursday, I did a writing exercise where my sister gave me a first and a last sentence and I filled in the middle! I had a really fun time doing it so this week I requested another two sentences. I don't know if this is nearly as fun to read as it is to write, but if you do read it and enjoy it, I'd love some reader-sentence submissions!

This week's sentences:

First: "Bob took a step and experienced an undeniably one-of-a-kind sensation."

Last: "Trips to the grocery store were never boring again."
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Bob took a step and experienced an undeniably one-of-a-kind sensation. A wafting, enticing, unidentified scent hit him just as soon as he entered Brokaw's Grocery Emporium, a rather decrepit looking establishment located down on the shadier end of Parakeet Lane. Bob had never been there before, but had been trying to make himself go for weeks. Every few days, he left his secure-feeling apartment, shoved his hands deep in his pockets and headed through the February gloom towards the fabled store. But every single time, Bob had faltered right outside. Distracted by the homeless men, grubby hands out-held for cash, a little daunted by the soulless looking employees on break, taking deep drags of their cigarettes. The duct-taped shattered windows gave him pause, as did the missing-person posters that wallpapered the out-of-order phone booths outside. The whole ambiance of the business was one of shadiness and body odor.

But today Bob had made himself push the front door open, did his best to give off the impression he was not scared for his life. Because if you listened to the gossip on the streets, and Bob did, the word was this was THE PLACE for cheap, quality foodstuffs. And after that first smell, he was convinced.

Deep in the recesses of the building, an electric doorbell chimed. Behind the front counter sat a paunchy, middle aged woman with carrot-red hair, reading a ladies magazine. Without even looking up, she squawked, "Welcome to Brokaw's" in the same tone most people would say, "I have to get a colonoscopy." Bob nodded curtly, doing his best impression of a casual, carefree shopper.

Attempting to avoid eye contact, he started down the aisles. He was surprised to see the linoleum floor, though well worn, had been recently scrubbed, and the expiration dates on the cans he inspected were well into the future. As he headed towards the back of the building, that intoxicating scent grew stronger.

Bob rounded the corner. A long, deli counter stretched ahead of him, manned by two burly men in yellowing aprons. They were in deep conversation about the upcoming Super Bowl, but one of the men saw Bob, nudged his coworker in the ribs and indicated him with a deep nod. Bob was sure he imagined it, but he thought he saw the man smirk a little.

"How can we help ya?" grumbled one of the deli workers. Nervously, Bob realized this was no longer a conversation he could avoid. He puffed out his chest a little and sauntered over to the counter. The heavenly aroma increased, and he realized that whatever the smell was, it was right in front of him. He leaned towards the glass and looked at all the meats displayed.

With more authority than he really felt, he demanded, "What's that meat there?" The two deli workers glanced at each other, smiled a little, and one leaned forward.
"Well, son, it's February," said the deli worker, as though it should be obvious. "That there is Groundhog meat."
"It's a specialty," added the other man.
Horrified, Bob gasped a little, before he caught himself. Be cool, be cool, he coached himself. "Ahh," he told the men, "I love Groundhog. So, so... delicious." He nodded to himself.
The deli workers looked at each other like Christmas had come early. They looked at each other, laughed, and spread their arms wide. "Wow!" said one to Bob. "It's so unusual to meet a connoisseur." The other man guffawed.
The first man continued, "Hey, if you like Groundhog, you should try this one!" He indicated one of the darker meats.
"Oh yeah?" said Bob, casually. "What's that one?"
"Roadkill!" the deli workers said together.
Truly repulsed, Bob recoiled a little. Then the two men started laughing hysterically. I've made a grave error. Bob thought to himself, I've been had. He blushed furiously, trying to think of a cool way to cover himself. But then he started to laugh too. Maybe Bob had not sold the "carefree shopper" as well as he had thought.
"It's okay, kid," chortled one of the men. "You're not the first!"
"Or the last," added the other. "Just a little deli humor."
Bob nodded, smiling, abashed. "So what are those meats?"
"Well, son, that one there is called turkey, and that darker one is something called pastrami." They started chuckling again.
As casually as he could, Bob said, "I'll take some of both."

After that, Bob became a regular Brokaw's Grocery Emporium customer. The two deli workers never forgot him, and never forgot to tease him. Trips to the grocery store were never boring again.
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It's kind of late and I don't know if this story is gonna be just bizarre, but I had fun writing it!

Like I said, I'd love sentences for next time!

Sarah

A Creative Writing Experiment!

The other day, my great-Uncle John came into the store and described a writing exercise where the first and last sentences are given, and the writer has to fill in the rest. Well, tonight I had no idea what to do for a blog and my sister suggested this! These are her sentences:

First: "I walked into the kitchen and found the dishwasher foaming around the edges."

Last: "I never saw that movie again."

Suffice it to say, she's not taking it easy on me! Haha! So I haven't posted a fiction blog in a while and I might be rusty, but bear with me!

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I walked into the kitchen and found the dishwasher foaming around the edges. Panicked, I gave an un-ladylike squeal and lunged for the roll of paper towels I had sitting on the counter, throwing the remote control I was holding down next to the sink. My cat Mose, perched next to the paper towels, eyed me with barely-concealed annoyance.
"What do I do??" I demanded of no one in particular, as I was alone in the house, save for Mose. I started seizing fist-fulls of the paper towels and jammed them into the crack between the dishwasher and cabinets. I had more pressing problems to worry about, but a somewhat detached portion of my brain puzzled why the foam was a sickly green color.
I started jamming my fingers at buttons at random, until the machine gave an unhealthy lurching noise and croaked to a halt. I sank to the floor in relief, the dirty hems of my jeans soaking up some of the dishwasher juice that had leaked onto the kitchen tile. Panic subsiding, my heartbeat slowed and I felt a little embarrassed by my hysteria and was glad that only Mose had witnessed my frenzy.
"Sorry," I muttered to the handsome, orange feline.
In response he stood, stretched his back and made his way over to the sink. He took one look at the TV remote and batted it to the floor with a single swipe of his paw. It hit the tile hard, and batteries rolled in every direction.
"Ass!" I hissed, annoyed, and lunged to collect the batteries before they rolled into the new lake on my kitchen floor. Unconcerned, Mose hopped off the counter with an impressive thud and headed to the litter box for some alone time.
Shaking my head furiously, I rose off the floor and grabbed my dingy mop, cleaning up the mess. Sweeping from one side to the other, I found myself wondering, Why did I even come in here in the first place?
Then I remembered: the movie! Of course! My sister had lent me a movie over the weekend and was now on her way to my house to collect it. But where was it? I couldn't find it anywhere. As if on cue, my doorbell rang.
Having finished his "business", Mose came running from the litter box, over to the door, and I had to grab the back of the couch to steady myself after tripping over him. Feeling rather peeved at him, I wrenched my door open and used my foot to nudge him aside.
"Hi, hi," I greeted my sister, and stood aside for her to enter.
"Hey," she replied, grinning, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Hey, Mose." She came into the house and set her keys on the table next to the front door.
"He's on my shit list," I announced savagely.
My sister gave a look of mock outrage and bent to rub his ears. "How could you be mad at him? Look at this face!" She scooped him up in her arms and held him up. He gave a rather smug look and I rolled my eyes.
"Sorry, I know you came for the movie!" I told her. "But I really don't know what happened to it! I've been looking all over."
My sister sat Mose down on the table and shrugged good-naturedly. "I'll help you look!" She shrugged out of her jacket and draped it over the back of the couch. "So where were you--" here she was interrupted by a loud clatter. We both looked over to see Mose had batted her keys right off the table. She and I looked at each other, sharing a look that simply said, cats.
Somehow, though, it reminded me of my dishwasher. As my sister and I looked through my DVD collection, I told her about the mishap. "So you have no idea what caused it?" she asked, moving a pile of DVD cases.
"No idea--" I started to say, but then stopped. I watched as Mose hopped up on the couch and used his paw to bat my sister's jacket off. My stomach twisted. "Oh, god." I muttered.
"What, what?" my sister asked as I jogged over to my kitchen. She stood and followed me.
The kitchen was as I had left it, soggy paper towels littering the floor, stained with the odd green color. I took a deep breath and pulled the door of the washer open. I yanked the top row out, and low and behold, there was a melted, mangled DVD box, dripping green-stained water all over my dishes. Most of the DVD box was that green color, and the soapy water and washed it everywhere.
My sister let out a little gasp, and then started to giggle. It all came back to me- doing dishes that morning, leaving the DVD on the counter while I ran to the store for soap. Leaving it on Mose's counter. The little shit must have batted it right in, and I hadn't noticed.
I took the DVD out, handed it to my sister, and sighed.

It took a good hour cleaning out my now-green dishwasher, and I had a long conversation with Mose, and invested in a water squirt bottle. From then on any time he batted something off a counter or a couch, he got squirted. I had to buy my sister another copy of the DVD, and even though it was a good movie, every time I thought of it, I thought of Mose and the dishwasher.
I never saw that movie again.

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Haha, that was pretty fun! Might have to get back into fiction a little more, though I admit some of the characters in my story were based on real people and real cats. Thanks Emmy!

Sarah