mr_drew

Andrew
2004-08-26 18:18:41 (UTC)

McArthur

Went to McArthur Glen the other day. Got some stuff for
the flat and a t-shirt. Not a bad day.

A middle-aged woman with dirty blonde wavey hair kneels in
the middle of the entrance to the shopping centre's candle
shop, wearing no shoes. All that covers her feet are a
pair of white socks, dirtied significantly now. She leans
against a metallic frame of some sort, presumably to keep
her steady while she walks.

"Come and look at these ones down here, Mum! These
candles, the ones on the shelf!" she shouts. The shop
assistant and a few other shoppers pass a glance, blink an
eye and then carry on browsing.

"I'll come and look in a minute!" her mother replies,
dressed in red and wearing darkened brown glasses. "Do you
like the smell of this one?" she asks shortly after, in her
cockney accent, sticking the pale green cylindrical block
of wax under her daughter's face.

The child looks dissatisfied, so the older of the ladies
walks off again to browse further, leaving the shouting and
nagging of her stranded daughter drown and fade into a
strangled sound of stressed out consumers, fed up children
and thousands of aching feet.




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