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did I mention that she gets fired if she tries to take a snow-day...? - Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
did I mention that she gets fired if she tries to take a snow-day...?
So, to distract myself from the bit where the company my Mum's company works for are being bastards and refusing to close for the blizzard, which means their subcontractors are forced to be out driving around in this mess, have another helping of Trevor & Jason, if anyone's still following along:

It bewilders Jason that I walk by preference and not merely because it would have been all manner of awkwardness to present myself at the DMV to be photographed. (Although that's a factor.) He's always horrified when I say, I'll just run to the shop, which is a mile away.

The other shop, however, even I agree is too far. (He asked me once why I don't cycle. I pointed out that walking's dangerous enough when cars can't see you in their mirrors.) We have to wait until his sister can give us a lift on the weekend to satisfy Jason's requirements for free-range meats.

Sandra's been thinking about biting her boyfriend. It's a bigger commitment than most people have to consider. Their parents conspicuously never bothered, Michael taking it instead as his part to look after Susan and the children on those nights when words and thumbs deserted them. But Sandra doesn't want to stay in the city forever, the call to a place she could run free stronger in her than her bin-raiding brothers. It's hard to say what's instinct and what individual desire, but of the three of them she's always seemed the most attuned to the wolf, to my inexpert observations.

She may be exaggerating it consciously, of course. They're not short of their choices to make. But these two could be any couple in this market, to the eye, just a sister scolding her brother about taking too many of the cheese samples. They were stuck together, that counts as one. Even if I doubt another couple here jokes of such absurd retribution against rude shoppers, murmuring between themselves that hippies would taste too much of patchouli.

Although if anyone looks like a hippie here it's Jason, with the patchwork Rasta hat failing to completely contain his blond dreads. He looks completely at home studying the organic parsnips. I pick out some leeks for the cawl I've been promising to show him how to make; Lamb, I prompt.

It never takes much coaxing to get a were over to the meat-counter. "Bison," Jason says, eyes lighting up. I'm not sure I want to know what his inner Jamie Oliver is seeing. I join the queue, leaving him to run down fantasy prey in his head, and nudge Sandra's shoulder once I've been dealt with; she nods abstracted acknowledgement that they'll join me by the dairy when they've both managed to shake off the spell of so much glossy red flesh.

I may be contemplating yoghurt for some time.

They catch me up in front of the cream, a suspicious number of paper-wrapped bundles now riding in Jason's basket. "Trying to consider the question as a disinterested heterosexual male, you have a great ass," Jason's saying. Not quite a continuation of the discussion on the drive here, but close enough. Compared to her brothers Sandra is a slip, a well-built slip to be sure but delicate for a were, fine-boned like their mother. She worries about what standards she ought to be holding herself to. When I make the mistake of concurring with Jason's assessment he punches my arm. "Don't look at my sister's ass".

Jason changes course and picks up some brown stout for a stew he's been considering. "Well, you're paying now," I say. On or before today's date in... They should know.

We've exhausted the topic of Sandra's love-life now, and Button-Down's, and even Jason's current want of one; "Heard you've started seeing someone," Sandra says, to me.

Jason's mouth. "We had coffee."

She shakes her head, beaded plaits clacking. "For him that's third base," she says to her brother.

"Why does everyone talk about this as if I'm not here?"

They glance at their reflections in a freezer door and burst into laughter. Of course I'm not beside them.

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ljgeoff From: ljgeoff Date: February 2nd, 2011 03:37 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
I like this. It feels a little more distant than the other pieces, though. I *love* the image at the end.

Mike drives for Meijers and was called in for tomorrow. Yes, they're putting *extra trucks* out in the storm. No empty shelves at any cost!
robling_t From: robling_t Date: February 2nd, 2011 07:44 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Of course it's a bit distant, doesn't everybody have out-of-body experiences in Whole Paycheck...? ;) And it seems he's gradually filling in the specific nature of his... issues, I think so Muse can hit the reader in the face with an eventual reveal...

And at least stocking supermarkets makes some amount of sense so far as people needing supplies and all -- what They have Mum doing is nothing that couldn't wait until conditions are a bit less, oh, life-threatening? (She made it home at 10:30, and may also have wrecked the transmission. Words shall be Had with somebody in the morning, man...)
huskyfriends From: huskyfriends Date: February 2nd, 2011 07:30 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Great ending image. Love how this flows. It just keeps making me have more questions for our vamp.
robling_t From: robling_t Date: February 2nd, 2011 07:45 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Muse is definitely working her way up to something, yeah...
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