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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2235501-Bologna
by Jacky
Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2235501
Flash Fiction

“Ron, will you run to the store and get these things for me for the luncheon today?”

Ron looked up from his video game as his mother handed him the list. “What’s Cream of Tartar?”

“Oh, it’s in the spice aisle, It’s for cooking. Anything else you don’t know?”

“How will I know if the bologna’s German?”

“Just ask.”

“Ask who?”

“The person at the deli counter, of course.”

“I have to go to the deli counter, and wait in line?”

“Oh, for crying out loud. I’ll go with you.”

“Oh good, can we take your car, mine’s almost out of gas.”


“I have to go change these pants, they have a rip in the seat...”

“I don’t have time. Never mind, I’ll just go myself.”

Jane watched the encounter from the chair where she was reading her book.

“You’re such a jerk,” she said.

“What? I do have a rip in my pants.”

“You also know exactly what Cream of Tartar is and where to get German bologna, we’ve bought both of them before when we went to the store for Mum.”


“So, you just didn’t want to stop playing that game and go to the store.”

“Well, she just didn’t want to go to the store either, plus she’s going to kick us out all afternoon when she has her “luncheon,” and I won’t be able to play this game then, and I’m this close to winning!”

“Why didn’t you just tell her that?”

“She wouldn’t understand.”

“Like you don’t understand how important the right bologna is to Mom when she has her friends over, right?”

Ron stopped. He suddenly turned a bit red, and got up. “Thanks Jane,” he said quietly. Then he ran out yelling “Hang on Mom! I’m going with you!”
© Copyright 2020 Jacky (cliffjack at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2235501-Bologna