The supermarket

It’s past 8 pm. I just got out to work, and I needed to pick up some provisions on my way home.
I knew I had a rather tough day at work. My mind has not been on focus lately, I’ve had problems back home – and this was showing in my performance. I definitely needed a break, a much earned vacation, possibly near a beach. But since I’m already short on money, I decided to just buy a candy bar and some aroma candles instead.
I got into this little shop beyond Fifth Avenue. I hadn’t read the name, but it was somewhere on the lines of “Shop more” or something similar. As I entered I saw six different shelves, each lined up with boxes and such.
I went over to the cashier – a rather nice looking girl, possibly in her mid-twenties, to ask her where the aroma candles were. She glanced at me for a second and hesitating, said nothing at all. I reckoned she was one of those new girls, so I went on to find for myself.
The store was pretty small, but it was as if my sense of direction was out of sync. I wanted to find candles, but I found cereal, and milk, and plates, and even dishwashers. I still find it strange how they stuffed dishwashers on a shelf. What I again found incredible was the fact that I never crossed the same shelf twice. Considering the store was the size of a small hall, and there were only six racks to begin with, it was simply impossible for me to get back to what I was looking for.

I seemed to be alone in the store, save for the cashier in the orange dress, who seemed to be engrossed in her magazine. My eye kept wavering towards her, her petite figure and cherry red lips were not something one could get distracted from for too long.
An old lady in a purple church-dress had tottered in. She was wearing a black hat, with two peacock feathers, and her head was fixated on the ground. She walked straight to the shelf beside me, and bought – an aroma candle. She went over and placed it at the cashier’s, and walked away.
I looked at the clock and realised it was almost time. I quickly went over, asking if there were any other aromatic candles to spare.
“This one’s yours” she said – pointing to the one left by the old lady.
“This one?”
“It was from her, to you “
“Buy why?”
“She grew impatient”
“Is there a bill?”
At this she smirked.
I took the aromatic candle, kept it in a plastic bag and left.
As I crossed my way from the exit gates I felt a sudden chill. These stores, they had some strange vibrations.
When I looked around – the gate was gone.
The paper bag, however, still remained in my hand.