This week’s #writephoto prompt is
Terrance Pebble stepped across the aisle, his recalcitrant trolley, Percy skidding sideways as Terrance checked along the shelves. It had gone. Bloody goblin. It had been there moments before so where was it hiding?
His wrist sensor still suppurated, a sure sign of the presence of magical fae. He snatched a pack of cottonwool and wiped the mucus off the sensor’s face. The dial pointed at the next junction. That’s when he noticed the red cabinet. ‘Golden Lady’.
Oh bollocks, he thought, not her. How was she always in the right place at the wrong time? Forcing Percy to go first, despite its protesting, he fumbled in his pockets. Why, he cursed, did he never have anything to pay fealty when he needed it? He’d have to speak to Marginal again, ask her not to empty his pockets and eat his change. Sure, she liked a nickel snack after sex but this was compromising his job.
The trolley lurched into the shelving, muttering ‘perfume’ as the iconic pink wrinkled box of Dior’s ‘Midnight Scrotum’ fell into the basket. Yes, that would probably do. Eau de Jock had been on the list of recommended briberies for Her Blingness for the last while. Pushing the trolley with one hand and opening the packing with the other, he glanced at his appearance in the mirror attached to the end of the shelving, let go of the handle to straighten his tie – The Golden Lady was a stickler for appearances – and watched with horror as Percy crashed into the red housing.
As Percy did its best to look small, the door to Her Lady’s retreat swung slowly open.
As it did so the goblin, who Terrance had been pursuing since he’d spotted it putting a curse on the cheese counter fell out and into Percy’s basket.
Showing an unusual presence of mind for a wire sided wheeled vehicle, Percy folded in on itself, trapping the goblin.
The goblin must have been momentarily stunned as it was still shaking itself and beginning to prep a curse when a shimmering sun-filled vision emerged from the open cabinet. She waved a vague hand at the furious slimeball, turning it into a piece of tacky, in all senses, art as she swung majestically round to face Terrance. ‘Yes?’
He offered her the perfume bottle. She regarded it with disdain, took it and finished it in one swallow. While she showed no reaction, the bottle sighed, went limp and began to smoke. In a voice that spoke of inconceivable wealth, unfeasible power and a penchant for chocolate hobnobs the Regal Oneness nodded at Terrance. ‘You keeping the goblin?’
‘I probably should put it back in the toy department. The Christmas rush will be starting soon.’
‘That’s rather cruel, isn’t it? I mean, can you imagine being the plaything of a four year old?’
‘There are worse fates, if you ask me.’
The Vision looked briefly interested. ‘Really? Pray tell?’
Terrance looked at Percy, who had begun to vibrate to try and shake off the glutinous excretions that the goblin continued to extrude. ‘Shopping with a trolley with a mind of its own. Bloody nightmare.’
The Golden Lady swept up her gown and climbed back into her cabinet. In moments the space where the cabinet had been was empty and the aisles began to refill with shoppers again. Terrance let go a large sigh. ‘Come on,’ he said to Percy, ‘let’s get this done.’