Fiction: The Grocery Store to a Five-year-old

Fiction: The Grocery Store to a five-year-old

I remember going to the grocery store with my mom when I was little every Saturday. It was always an important part of my childhood to scour the aisle full of cheap unicorn figurines and then throw a temper tantrum if my mom didn’t get me what I wanted. I’ve gone to Jewel so many times that I named each part of it. The big sort of ware house looking part of Jewel was the scary part. I never had a name for the regular aisles but I did call the frozen section the meadow. I guess it’s just because of the fake grass that was on top of the shelf. They’ve changed Jewel around now and so the flower room, as I called it, is gone. It was this small room with glass windows and shelves that were filled with flowers. It was the perfect environment for the flowers and me but it’s gone now. The other thing they took away was their small coffee shop thing. It was a small part of the “warehouse” that had tables and fake brambles of ivy around it. Whenever I look there now it’s just filled with giant cardboard boxes.


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