The SUPERmarket
The SUPER market, the most super out of all markets, superior, stupendous, superfluous. It's 2:22 am and my supreme supply of beer and/or rubbing alcohol had run out. Naturally, I felt the strong gravitational pull towards the SUPER market, 24/7 SUPER open. I did not fight it. Instead, I just floated on a space-time wave, my lightcone enveloping the SUPER market, my future becoming the SUPER market.
Once I arrived, I was met by the cold hard glass of the sliding doors opening in slow motion. I peeled my cheek off and set foot in the brightly lit hall. It was so white and sterile, but the smell of burnt ham-cheese croissants viciously penetrated my nostrils faster than the speed of the neon's light. I rushed towards the beer section, but it was as if I was trying to run in a dream. The once beige tiles on the floor were covered in seven layers of orange juice, piss, vomit, coffee (or feces, I couldn't tell), ancient chewing gum, a mysterious white substance and the blood, sweat and tears of the poor underage workers.
I gagged, thinking about all the 12-year-olds dragging carts of produce around the isles. But the beer was calling me. I had my eyes on the prize, and everything else around me was blurry. Only the stubby green bottle with white label, the chubby and sweet little Neumarkt grenade. I could feel its strong bitter hops dancing on my taste buds. It was calling me, amongst the screams of coked-up prostitutes, checkout beeps and fans whirring, rusty and old. Its voice was sweet and clear; the others — a mere cacophony. I grabbed 10 bottles, as much as my arms could carry. In the heat of the moment, I had forgotten to grab a cart, not that they had them, anyway. I waltzed with my catch to the cashier. She batted her obnoxiously long fake eyelashes at me twice, smacked her glossy lips, chewed her gum thrice and began scanning my items, one by one, slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. I fiddled with my jeans trying to get the banknote out of the dark abyss I fitted it in. My heart was racing. Finally, I handed her the 10 lei, stained brown on a corner, and rushed with my bag of beer.
I crashed through the glass door, but no one seemed to care. I opened the first bottle, struggling a bit to break the thin but strong plastic string attaching the cap to the bottle. What a stupid development! I flung the cap into the bushes and started floating towards the park. The streetlights weren't working, but I didn't mind the darkness. I had my Neumarkt with me, and I knew everything would be ok. My feet started to feel wet and heavy. Something wrapped itself around my left leg. I hoped it was a green algae, but when I reached to grab it, it escaped, right through my fingers. How unfortunate!
The lamp in the middle of the river lit up. The big rat turned its head towards me and, bearing its crooked teeth, started laughing. I handed him one bottle, paid my respects, and continued to the other side. I could feel hundreds of red eyes staring at me, but I knew I was safe. I scrambled up the muddy cliff, laying down on the grassy earth at the top. I watched the sun rise from behind the nuclear power plant. It was so beautiful, a cold blue, almost white. Just like the neons of the SUPER market. And soon enough, I felt its call. A jingle you can never forget, irresistible, hypnotising. I stood up, turning towards the nearest SUPER market, like a Muslim towards Mecca. It was automatic.
One step after another and I was again in front of the SUPER market. My hands were empty. The beer disappeared. I had to get more!