An experimental fiction piece about grocery shopping and emotions.
A glass jar of shame falls from the topmost shelf and smashes over large root on the ground. I sigh and shift some of the glass with my shoe. A pebble of shame rolls down the aisle and into the cold section. It nestles itself beneath the mince.
I don't like this place. It tells you what you should buy. The things you shouldn't buy evade you sometimes and change aisles without warning. But if you're desperate for them you can usually track them down. It is, after all, still about making a profit. If you really want to waste your money on things you don't need it'll let you. But it does like to put up a feeble for-your-own-good fight first for some reason. A high pitch beeping erupts from the floor near the jar and another staff member rushes along to clean up the shards. I step around them.
You can read the full piece here:
Supermarket – Text Journal #17 Mud map: Australian women’s experimental writing – 2013