The rain lashed down onto the car park floor with the force of nails, struck by a celestial hammer. The clouds dominated the afternoon sky engulfing the sun light into its grey abyss. Row, upon row, upon row, of cars filled the car park all leading me towards the supermarket entrance. Above the entrance stood the four letters of ASDA, glowing with green defiance against the gloomy weather. Outside was a dwindling supply of shopping trolleys, soon to be used by the next wave of rush hour customers. The huge automatic entrance door parted as I walked towards it, eager to be inside.
A cool, air conditioned breeze brushed across my face as soft as the finest of silks. The supermarket was packed with people and the sound of chatting and the squeaking of trolley wheels filled the shop. Taking a step forward I focused on the display in front of me. An abundance of fruit and vegetables lined the shelves; an array of colours that could put a rainbow to shame. The scent of ...view middle of the document...
The bags under the mother’s eyes showed she’d had many sleepless nights whilst she rooted deep into her pocket. I continued on. The screaming stopped. Taking a glance back I saw the toddler now grinning in silence, sucking on the dummy his mother had just given him.
The enticing smell of freshly baked bread was thick in the air as the bakery came into view. Spread across the counter was a variety of breads in all sorts of shapes and sizes. The smell was so overpowering I yearned for a mouthful of the delicious looking bread. Peeking over the counter top an elderly woman wearing a tall, white baker’s hat approached me. Leaning over the counter, she said “aww aren’t you cute”. Not knowing what to make of this I left the woman at the counter and went in search for the aisle I was looking for.
The ‘Chocolate and Confectionary’ sign stood, proud and green, displaying the glory of what lay beneath. I’d been waiting all day for this. My stomach rumbled in approval as I approached rows of shelves stacked with chocolate bars towering higher than sky scrapers. The range was limitless, the choice impossible. Closing my eyes, I reached out and let fate decide which bar. The wrapper was a dark blue colour and smooth to the touch. After carefully unveiling the rich, blocks of chocolate I snapped a chunk off and chewed. An explosion of taste ignited on my tongue, nicer than I’d ever tasted in my short life. Suddenly the music stopped and a woman’s voice began to talk down the speakers. “If anybody has seen an unsupervised 4 year old boy in a red T-shirt please return him to his mother at the checkout. Thank you.” Hundreds of eyes turned to me in union.
A big, burly man bustled his way to the front of the crowd and picked me up, his green ASDA apron pressed against me. He began marching towards the front of the shop grumbling to himself. Bongs, beeps and buzzes from the checkout blocked out all other noises as we neared the front of the shop. There were thousands of products piled up onto the long line of conveyor belts slowly making their way towards the scanner. In the corner of my eye I saw my sobbing mother running towards me. Taking me off the man she offered to pay for the chocolate bar. “I thought I’d lost you.” She said, as we left the supermarket.